A Beating Heart
by kokune
Summary: It's been two years since the failed engagement party, a year and three months since Alice left for China, and eleven months since Alice disappeared. Suddenly, Hamish finds himself in Underland, and a scandal beyond anyone's comprehension is unearthed A/T
1. Prologue

**Summary: It's been two years since the failed engagement party, a year and three months since Alice's departure to China, and seven months since Alice's disappearance. Suddenly, Hamish finds himself in her fantasyland, and a scandal beyond anyone's comprehension is unearthed.**

**AN: I've always been the kind of person who believed that Hamish felt at least **_**something**_** for Alice, and that he didn't merely ask for her hand out of convenience or just because his mother had been planning the whole thing for twenty years. Just thought I'd throw that out there. This is an Alice/Hatter Fiction, though. Alice **_**did**_** turn down the poor boy, after all, and I'm not going to mess with that. In the wise words of Jack Sparrow (aka Johnny Depp): "It would never have worked out between us, love." **

**Also, I promise that the next chapters will be longer. This is just a kind-of prologue…thing. **

**Disclaimer: I own NOTHING. Get it? Got it? Good.**

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**Chapter 1**

"Oi! It got away!" a young man cursed as the pheasant he was about to shoot caught sight of his presence and took flight. With a grumble, he emerged from his hiding place in the midst of the forest and set out to find another bird.

As he walked along the well-worn path through the trees, he thought of the events that had transpired over the last two years; he seemed to be contemplating several things in particular as of late. He had seemingly fallen in love, asked for said-girl's hand in marriage, and then been flatly turned down. The aforementioned girl had struck up a deal with his father, traveled to China, and then promptly disappeared. That thought always brought a melancholy feeling to his soul; the notion that Alice Kingsleigh was likely dead, having not been seen or heard from for some seven months.

Suddenly, three pigeons flew in front of his face, and, having been distracted by his thoughts, missed shooting them. He was broken out of his reverie, and sighed. He realized that he had been subconsciously wandering down the path on his grounds that Alice had loved so much when they had been children, and sighed sadly to himself as he thought of her, smiling and laughing.

He stepped into a clearing and ran his eyes over the small amount of foliage that populated the area atop the hill. There were several wispy trees, barely blooming, and an old, worn tree-stump positioned somewhat in the center. There was a flash of white to his left, and he tilted his head for a moment, trying to catch what it was. He hoped that it was a rabbit or bird; if it were, this whole ordeal wouldn't be a complete waste of time if he managed to shoot it. After a few more moments, nothing else seemed to move. With a resigned sigh, he turned back to the scene in front of him.

He noticed for the first time that there was a rather dirty-looking rabbit-hole at the base of the tree-stump. This gave him an idea, and he crept closer towards the dead tree. If there was a rabbit in there, he could kill it and get back home sooner.

He reached the edge of the hole and crouched down, musket ready. The young man peered into the dark hole, but he couldn't make out anything. Hamish leaned in, placing his hands on the edge of the hole, trying to get a closer look, when suddenly the dirt underneath his palms gave way. Suddenly, he found himself tumbling down into the earth, much farther than he would have expected a normal rabbit-hole to be deep.


	2. Chapter 1

"_What is happening to me, crazy some would say _

_Where is the life that I recognize, gone away"_

**Chapter 1**

His first thought as he fell into the earth (aside from the initial _A rabbit hole shouldn't be _this_ deep!)_ was wondering how he was going to get back up when he hit the bottom. After several more seconds of falling, that turned into _if_ he hit the bottom.

The farther he fell, the brighter the tunnel became, until he was finally able to look around without squinting. As he observed his surroundings, he was shocked to find that bookcases, tables, and chairs lined the walls of the exceptionally large tunnel.

Hamish turned his head to the side to get a better look at one of the dressers he passed, and when he looked up, he gave a very uncharacteristic scream. There was a piano barreling down towards him. He would be crushed! The piano came right up to his face, however, played a few notes, and fell back up. It fell _up_! He was stunned, and decided right then and there that he was either hallucinating, or he was dreaming.

His thoughts were interrupted when he hit something soft and springy, then promptly bounced back up. He continued to drop for several more seconds, before he crashed through something and hit the ground. Hamish shook himself, still quite dizzy from such a fall, before standing. To his great confusion, his hair was standing on end. It took him only a moment to realize that he was, in fact, upside down! Immediately after that realization, however, the room shifted and he fell to the floor – the _proper_ floor.

He lay still for a few moments, just to be sure that there would be no more changing rooms, or switches in gravity. When he was satisfied that everything was stationary, he stood and took in his strange new surroundings. The round room was small, and there was a door every few feet along the wall. There was a singular empty, glass table in the center. He looked up, but only saw a checkered ceiling.

In a panic, Hamish began knocking on all the doors, and jostled the knobs and banged on the wood. It was no use, though, and he turned back to the table in defeat. Something shiny caught his eye, however, and he rushed forward to grab the little copper key that hadn't been there the moment before. He repeated his run, trying to unlock every door with little success.

He turned around once more to see if the table had conjured up anything else, and noticed that there was a curtain on the opposite end of the room that he hadn't noticed before – that he hadn't noticed, or just hadn't been there. He raced over and threw away the red-velvet fabric, only to reveal blank wall. He sighed in frustration, and had to take a moment to push the approaching panic back to the rear of his mind. After he composed himself, he took another look at the wall. Towards the floor, there was a small door; about two feet tall. He quickly tried the key, and it unlocked with ease. Hamish took a glimpse out, and what he saw astounded him. There were flowers of every color in the midst of a lush forest, and a bright sky hung overhead. He tried to squeeze out through the tiny door, but only his head would fit. He gave another huff, and pulled back into the room.

Another look around revealed a small glass bottle on the table, and he stood and picked it up. There was no writing on the bottle, save a little paper card labeled "Drink Me". The lord turned up his nose and sat the bottle back. "There has to be some way out of this place!" he sniffed to himself, scanning the room again. His eyes eventually came back to the little bottle on the table. "I am _not_ drinking that; I've no idea what it'll do to me! For all I know, it could be poison."

He began to circle the room again, and he was suddenly overcome with despair and the desire to wake up. This was a dreadful dream, indeed. He wandered back over to the table, and stared at the vial. _Alice would drink it_. Hamish jumped. "Who's there?" When no answer came, he turned back to the table. It was, after all, only a dream. What harm could come from something that wasn't even real? With that, he uncorked the bottle, closed his eyes, and took a sip.

He almost gagged at the horrible taste, and began to cough furiously. When he opened his eyes, though, he saw that the table had grown several feet! In fact, the whole room had increased in size greatly… as well as his clothes. He furiously gathered up the access cloth, tying several knots and making several folds to get it to fit at least some.

He wandered back over to the little door, for which he was now the perfect size to walk through. Overcome with relief, he tried the knob… it wouldn't budge. "Drat." He turned back to the enormous table, and realized that he had left the key sitting next to the now-overturned bottle.

Hamish raced back over to the glass table, and attempted to climb up and retrieve the key. Because the legs of the table were smooth, however, he had no footholds and could not get very far. He slumped back against the leg in defeat. "This is turning out to be an awful day." He said to himself, smirking at how much he sounded like Alice at the moment – talking to himself. He closed his eyes to try to formulate another plan of escape, but it's quite hard to do anything when you have no idea where you are or how you got there. Upon opening his eyes once more, however, he spotted a little glass box. "Everything here seems to be made of glass…" He thought with some detached hint of amusement.

He made his way over to the box, and saw that there was a small, white cake resting on a red velvet cushion. There were two neatly written words written with frosting in the same handwriting as the label on the bottle. They read "Eat Me". At this point, Hamish was resigned to pretty much anything, so he opened the box, broke off a bit, and popped it into his mouth.

Again, it tasted horrible, and he found himself nearly choking on the flavor. Because his eyes were open this time, he saw that _he_ was the one that was growing and shrinking. He struggled to undo several knots in his clothes as he began to grow as not to be strangled, but even then, the cloth began to rip. Eventually, he stopped growing, but by that time, his head had started to touch the ceiling of the little room. This caused him to begin to slightly panic, but he quickly regained composure. His eyes fell on the little door (that was now even _more_ miniscule), and he had a sudden idea. Hamish quickly grabbed the small key and the little bottle of shrinking-serum, took a swig, and hacked and coughed his way back to the right-size-to-fit-through-the-tiny-door.

After re-tying what was left of his clothes, he unlocked the door and sighed with relief when it swung open with ease. After taking a breath of fresh air and relishing in the thought of being free of that dreadful room, he opened his eyes to see where, exactly, he was. As he took in his surroundings, he gasped in wonder.

There were flowers and mushrooms of every shape and color that towered over him like mansions. As he took a step further, he saw that the door that he had just exited was, in fact, standing alone on a crumbling stone staircase. There was no sign of the torturous room in which he had just been trapped. _Strange_, he thought with a sniff, as he turned to survey the rest of his new surroundings. His eyes widened at what he saw.

Surrounding the little stone staircase was a glorious garden filled with plants and flowers of every shape and color. As he continued to gaze, he noticed that the flowers were _moving. _He was dumbfounded. "Hey! It's not polite to stare, laddie," Something with a strange accent (_almost like Scottish_, he thought) snapped.

"Wh-who's there?" he asked shakily, whipping his head around in every direction, but still seeing no sign of anyone.

"Right here, ye dreadful thing!" the voice scolded again. This time, Hamish's attention was drawn to a group of multi-colored carnations at the base of the staircase. "It's not polite to stare, so stop it!"

"A-are you _talking_ to me?" the lord stared at the flowers – which he now noticed had faces – as his mind struggled to grasp what he was hearing.

"'Are ye talking to me'" the purple carnation mocked, and the others laughed. She was obviously the leader of the group. "Yes, I'm talking to ye! Now, stop yer lookin' and move along, laddie. Haven't ye somewhere to be?" The group began to cackle again, and Hamish could only nod dumbly and take several shaky steps forward. Because he wasn't watching where he was going, he ended up tumbling down the stairs. He fell into a heap at the bottom of the stairs, which caused the flowers to once again start giggling.

After he collected himself, Hamish continued on into the strange world that he had somehow found himself in. As he passed through the underbrush (he realized now that this was, in fact underbrush, even though it was as tall as he was), the flowers continued to giggle at him. For the most part, he tried to ignore them. Occasionally, though, he would give one to two an annoyed glance or a scowl, just to show them that he wasn't intimidated by them… much. He traveled on like that for a few minutes, slowly coming to terms with the fact that he was possibly going mad in order to have such a dream as this.

Then, suddenly, something flew past him. The force knocked him off his feet, and he threw his arms over his head for protection in case the perpetrator returned. This, however, only managed to throw the flowers into all-out laughing fits. Hamish peeked over his arms and saw that there was nothing there, so he huffed indignantly, stood and straightened what was left of his jacket, and continued walking.

However, this happened again. And again. The third time, however, he didn't close his eyes as he was knocked to the ground, and he managed to see what was going on. What he observed made him want to close his eyes all over again. A rocking-horse was flitting about overhead, but it had the pattern of a zebra on its coat and brandished a set of dragonfly wings! Hamish gasped as the giant creature (for it was as big as he was!) swooped down again, and he found himself running for cover.

'Cover' ended up being another patch of flowers, which caused them to start squealing. He was promptly pushed out of the patch and back into the line of fire, only to see another, even more frightening creature some at him. It looked like a little dragon with insect wings! He ducked again, careful not to invade the flowers' privacy, and watched as the dragonfly swooped, dipped, and dived. The creature's motions were soon copied by the horsefly, and Hamish immediately became caught up in watching the elaborate air-dance. His moment of peace didn't last long, though.

"I said, don't ye have somewhere else to be?" a voice snapped, and he started out of his daze. "If yer goin' to move on, move on!" It was the same purple carnation that was snapping at him, and Hamish wasted no time arguing. He fled out of the garden and into the woods, slightly shaken up by the things he had seen.

As he walked, the forest became denser and darker. He had no idea whether he was simply going deeper into the forest, or his small size that made the woods seem twice as daunting as normal. Soon, every tree started to look the same, and there was no way to tell whether he was even still going the same direction he was when he started his journey.

"What have we here?" a voice above him purred, yes, _purred_. Hamish jumped, and then mentally scolded himself; he should have been used to things startling him by now. He looked up, but, again, saw nothing. "What do you call yourself?" The voice came from in front of him now, and Hamish jumped again. "You're a jumpy little creature, aren't you?" The lord found himself starting in surprise once more when he was able to locate what was talking to him. It was a _cat_! He shouldn't have been surprised, though. Things that weren't supposed to talk seemed very verbal here.

"H-Hamish Ascott," Hamish composed himself somewhat. "And who are you?"

"It doesn't matter who _I_ am, now does it?" the cat said as it floated closer. Hamish didn't noticed that, however, as he was too fixed on the enormous grin the cat wore. Could cats even grin? "We're focusing on you right now. What did you say your name was?"

"Hamish Ascott, son of Lord and Lady Ascott, resident of London, England," Hamish answered. He felt the need to give his credentials, hoping that the cat would realize just how important he was. The cat's expression turned from superior to confused, and then back to superior.

"London, you say?" Hamish nodded. "So you're an _Alice_?" The lord winced at the name, thinking immediately of his lost love.

"My name is _Hamish_, not _Alice_." He sniffed at the cat.

"I never said your name was 'Alice'; I said that you were an—oh, why am I even bothering? You're from the Uplands, correct?" The cat floated back a few inches, and did a belly-roll in the air in front of the frightened little man.

"W-Where?" Hamish managed to stutter, as he watched the amused feline with wide eyes.

"The Uplands! Are you even paying attention?" The cat scolded. The lord only stood, dumb-struck, and stared. "Oh, you're as useless as she was at first! I might as well take you to the Hatter and the Hare; they'll know what to do with you. At the very least, they'll get some amusement out of having you with them." The last part he said more to himself, rather than to Hamish. The blue cat began to hover ahead, as Hamish simply stood there. "Well, are you coming?" This snapped the redhead out of his daze, and he scrambled to catch up with the cat.

Really, he had no idea where they were going, who this 'Hatter and Hare' here, or why he was even following a floating, talking, grinning cat in the first place. Hamish finally decided that he had no other choice, however, and that he couldn't wait for this strange dream to be over. When he woke up, he would have breakfast with his parents, same as always, and he would forget about this whole thing. Yes, that's what he would do.

As he was having his internal debate, though, the cat continued to move on ahead. Once more, Hamish scrambled to catch up, until they were at the edge of a clearing. The little man could make out some kind of singing, and the sound of clanking china. The cat floated through the rest of the underbrush, and Hamish lost sight of him for a moment. He could still hear him, though.

"Chessur!" someone exclaimed rather disdainfully. "What brings you here? Come for tea, perhaps?" The offer sounded someone strained, and Hamish thought he could detect a hint of that same accent that the flower had had earlier; slightly Scottish.

"No, no," the cat – Chessur – replied. "I've brought you someone, though."

"A visitor!" a new voice exclaimed. This one was slightly more high-pitched, and had a very prominent Scottish brogue.

"Yes, I've brought an _Alice_." There was a large crash, followed by several shouts of 'Hey! Watch the tea!'

"You've brought Alice?!" The first voice replied, sounding very excited. This caused more confusion to spring up in Hamish's mind. What was all this talk about Alice? There was no way that she could have known any of these people; this _was_ his dream, after all.

"Alice!" The third voice echoed. By now, Hamish had made it to the edge of the clearing, and peered out through the grass. They couldn't see him, but he could see them.

There looked to be a giant tea-party set up, with the longest table Hamish had ever seen. The multicolored tablecloth was strewn with mismatched dishes of every shape, size, color, style, and use, but it was the characters seated _at_ the table that caught the redhead's interest. There was a madly twitching rabbit seated in one of the chairs, and a mouse seated swimming in one of the teacups. Chessur was seated at a chair at the end of the table, and his back was to Hamish.

The craziest of them all, however, was a man crouched on the table in front of the cat. He was unearthly pale, with multicolored markings around his eyes. He had stark-orange hair that was sticking every-which-way out from underneath the largest top hat he had even seen. His suit was also an assortment of strange colors, and there was a gap between his two front teeth. Hamish could see this because he was smiling widely at the cat.

"No, not _the_ Alice; _an_ Alice. An Upland-er," Chessur replied slowly, watching the madman warily as his insane grin faded.

"An Upland-er…" he mumbled, still crouched in front of the cat. "An Upland-er!" he jumped up again, sailing over Chessur's head and landing firmly on his feet. "So where is this naughty fellow you claim to have brought us?" Hamish noted that the accent seemed to be gone from his voice, and that it was replaced with a kind-of lisp.

"Hold on, Tarrant," The cat replied, disappearing and reappearing in front of the madman. "You don't want to scare him." The frightened lord took this as his cue to step out into the open, and he did just that. The man's – Tarrant – eyes grew wide at the sight of him, and he bounded over.

"Good afternoon, sir!" he gave a sweeping bow, though the enormous top hat remained firmly upon his head. "Care to join us for tea?" Without waiting for an answer, he took Hamish by the hand and walked him over the table. Needless to say, the lord was quite disgusted with their eating conditions. "Sit here, sit here!" he promptly dropped the little man into the chair to his right, which had a stack of books placed on it as a booster. "Tea?" the madman snatched a cup and saucer from one of the other empty seats, and began filling it from one of the numerous teapots strewn around the table.

"Scone!" a Scottish voice exclaimed, and Hamish yelped in fright as the aforementioned pastry whizzed past his ear. He saw that it was the twitching rabbit that had launched the attack.

"Thackery! That is no way to treat our guest!" Tarrant scolded, before turning on the newcomer. "Now, what did you say your name was, dear girl?"

Hamish sniffed indignantly, hoping to retain what little dignity he had left after being shooed away by flowers and reduced to eating with lunatics. "First of all, I am _not_ a 'girl'. Second, my name is Lord Hamish Ascott," Tarrant blinked and sat back in his enormous chair, mumbling to himself.

"Ascott, Ascott, Ascott… where have I heard that before…?"

"I should think that it would sound familiar; this is, after all, _my_ dream, so you'd have to know me." His words seemed to strike a chord within the madman, and he ceased his rambling immediately. In fact, Hamish noted dismally, the entire table had gone silent.

"Dear Alice thought the same thing," the mouse said after a long moment, breaking the solemn silence.

"Alice…" Tarrant sighed, and Hamish looked back at him. The crazily-dressed man had a sorrowful expression on his face, and the colors on his suit seemed to have dimmed. His hair and bowtie now drooped slightly, and his eyes had become a dismal blue-grey. "It's been such a long time since she left…"

"We all do miss her very much," the mouse sighed, as well. She suddenly sprang out of her miniature swimming pool and scrambled over to where Hamish was seated. "Maybe you know her!" This seemed to brighten the mood at the table, and soon Tarrant was back to his perky self.

"Yes, do you know Alice Kingsleigh?" he asked excitedly, leaning in closer to the shrunken man.

"Alice! Alice!" The hare cheered from his seat, and he chucked a teacup in their general direction.

"Yes, have you heard of her…?" Chessur inquired as he floated lazily above the little huddle.

Hamish gulped. "Y-yes, I _do_ know Miss Kingsleigh…"

"Well, how is she? Is she coming back soon?" The lunatics seemed to be bursting with excitement now that they had found someone who knew their champion.

"We do miss her quite lots, and she said she'd be back before we knew it!" The mouse chimed in.

"How is the dear girl…?"

"Alice!"

After everyone had added in their two-cents, Hamish gulped again at the eager and expectant faces that surrounded him. "W-well, I th-thought you would have heard. Miss Alice K-Kingsleigh is dead." And then the _real_ chaos broke out.

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**AN: Oh my gosh, did the authoress just kill off Alice? I bet all of you thought Alice was in Underland, hmm? ;D Also, sorry for the long wait. I was on vacation at the beach, and I didn't have a laptop with internet with me. This chapter is a little choppy, because I ended up writing pieces of it on scraps of paper, in a notebook, and typed some parts in my laptop. It wasn't until I got home that I actually consolidated it. ****Also, the quote at the beginning is from "Ordinary World" by Red.**

**Please review! It brings more chapters faster, and makes me happy!**


	3. Chapter 2

"_And I won't cry for yesterday _

_There's an ordinary world somehow I have to find"_

**Chapter 2**

The entire ordeal happened in seconds. One moment, everyone was laughing, drinking tea, and having a good time. The next, plates and cups were being shattered as Tarrant lunged across the table and pinned Hamish to the ground. "Yer lying!" He yelled, his accent thick and menacing. "She'll _not_ be dead!" Because the redhead was still only around two feet tall, the madman seemed twice as intimidating as he normally would. It didn't help that his eyes had become the most frightening shade of orange he had ever seen. Tarrant's rough fingers found their way around Hamish's tiny neck, and soon he was gasping for air. "Yer lying!"

Both men barely heard the cries of the others for Tarrant to stop, and all the pulling, prodding, and poking from the mouse and the Hare couldn't get the madman to move. Chessur seemed to have disappeared at some point during the confrontation.

Soon, black began to creep around the edges of Hamish's vision as his air supply diminished. The last thing he heard before he blacked out was a firm, yet beautiful, voice yell, "Tarrant! Release the man this instant!" The crazy-haired man's grip loosened, and Hamish saw his eyes flicker to a grey-blue. Just before he slipped into unconsciousness, he decided that this _wasn't _a dream, after all.

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**

_Is he okay_?

_I don't know; he's been out for quite a while._

_Oh, I feel dreadful…_

_You should not have reacted like that, but I understand. The news is quite alarming. Are you sure of what he said?_

_Yes, I'm sure. He said… he said that…_

_Oh, Hatter…_

_I need a moment…_

Hamish could make out faint voices, though he didn't recognize any of them. Well, come to think of it, one sounded vaguely familiar… He couldn't pinpoint where he had heard it before, though. He tried to open his eyes just a crack, but found that the light was too bright. He quickly shut them once more, before trying again.

This time, he managed to keep them open, though everything was still very blurry. Slowly, though, things began coming into focus. After a few moments, he could make out that he was in an unfamiliar room. A very, very white room. So white, in fact, that it hurt his head to look at it. He tried in vain to sit up, and that action only resulted in him falling back onto the bed with a pain-filled grunt. Suddenly, a figure was at his side, looking down at him. "Oh, you're awake." A white blur appeared in his vision; well, a different white then the rest of the room.

"Wh-" he managed to choke out. It hurt immensely to talk, but he was so terribly confused.

"You shouldn't talk," the voice said. "It's not good for that throat of yours. Here," Hamish felt someone help him into a sitting position as his vision began to clear. "Drink this." A silver goblet was gently placed in his hands, and he reluctantly took a sip. Only after the liquid had slipped down his throat did he realize that he had no idea what he was drinking, however. Just as quickly as the pain had come, though, it diminished. Hamish soon found that he could make out things in the room, as well.

As if to answer his unspoken questions, the voice began talking. "I'm so very sorry about Tarrant's uncalled-for reaction to your… news. We're all very attached to our Champion – Tarrant especially – and it breaks all our hearts to know that she's no longer with us." This, however, only made the injured man even more confused. He turned to look at the speaker to question her, and gasped when he did.

Sitting in a lavish chair to the right of his bed was a beautiful woman clad in white. Her platinum hair fell to her shoulders, though her eyebrows and lips were a deep black. She wore a stunning white dress, and a silver crown was placed delicately atop her head. The questions he had been about to ask died on his tongue, and he managed to stutter out – now that his throat was feeling better – "Wh-who are you?" The woman laughed at the expression on his face, which promptly caused it to grow a comical blush.

"My name is Mirana, and, because I know you are going to ask it anyway, you are in Marmoreal. You lost consciousness after Tarrant's outburst, and you were brought here." She smiled softly at Hamish as his expression went from embarrassed to confused.

"I-I'm not in England anymore, am I?"

She just shook her head and sighed. "I'm afraid not, Mr. Ascott. We're working on a way for you to return as we speak… I do assume you wish to return home?"

"Yes, yes; very much so." He replied a little too hastily. Mirana, however, just resumed her smile. "Please, do call me Hamish. Also, if you don't mind my asking, what is the 'Champion' you mentioned earlier. I was a tad out of it, and I'm not sure if I heard you correctly." The lovely woman sighed again.

"The late Miss Alice Kingsleigh, Champion of Underland, Slayer of the Jabberwocky, Banisher of the Red Queen, Savior of Underland." She stated somewhat sadly.

"Alice was here?" Hamish managed to sputter out, again, in shock.

"Yes – she's been here twice, actually. I believe she referred to it as 'Wonderland', though." Mirana laughed sadly to herself. Then something in Hamish's mind clicked.

"I'm in _Wonderland_?" Alice had often talked about her strange dreams when she was a little girl, and often referred to it as Wonderland. Not that he really thought about it, he could recall her mentioning such things as disappearing cats and talking rabbits. "Alice's mad world?"

She nodded. "So she has mentioned us…"

"Yes, yes," Hamish was getting quite excited; finally, something remotely familiar about this place! "She mentioned the vanishing cat—"

"Chessur."

"—A blue caterpillar—"

"Absolem."

"—A set of twin boys—"

"Tweedledee and Tweedledum."

"—The rabbit in a waistcoat—"

"Nivens McTwisp." As Hamish ran through the list of creatures he could remember, Mirana gave him their names. He felt himself gaining energy as he sipped the liquid from the goblet in his hands – he no longer wondered what was in it; he trusted Mirana – and he also felt himself becoming happier than he had in a long while. All this confirmed that Alice _hadn't_ been mad, and knowing that her sanity had been completely intact when everyone had thought otherwise made him feel relieved. He gained a new respect for her – she continued life even under so much criticism.

Just as he was about to mention the next thing he could remember, the door opened to reveal Tarrant. "—A hatter… You're the Mad Hatter!" Hamish exclaimed, seeing the madman in a new light. The Hatter blinked and did a double-take at the redhead sitting up and talking. Immediately, he went into an apologetic ramble.

"Oh, I am so very terribly sorry for my actions earlier. I do hope you'll forgive me, or, if you won't forgive me, you won't hate me too much. I do miss Alice very much, and your news was very unsettling. We all miss Alice – not that I miss her more than everyone else – it's just been very quiet and boring here without her here and I know she said she'd be back before I knew it, but I knew she had left the minute she disappeared and—"

"Hatter!" Mirana scolded good-naturedly.

The Hatter shook his head slightly as his eyes refocused. "My apologies, your majesty."

"Your majesty?" Hamish said, before he looked at Mirana and clapped. "Ah! The White Queen!" This earned him a smile from the Queen and a confused look from Tarrant.

"You didn't know?" He asked.

Mirana chuckled, "He's been having a series of epiphanies. I wondered when he was going to get that one…"

Suddenly, Hamish began to feel very tired. Mirana noticed this, and, much to the Hatter's dismay, suggested he take a rest. His outburst had taken more out of him than he realized, and soon Hamish was fast asleep.

"We'll ask him when he's stronger, Tarrant." Mirana soothed the drooping Hatter. "It so much to take in, coming here. He's not like Alice." He only nodded and retreated from the room, again.

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* * *

**

Over the next few days, Hamish continued to regain his strength. He was not only physically and mentally exhausted from being nearly choked to death, but also from the entire trip in Underland. Neither his unpleasant experience in the rabbit hole, nor the fact that neither the Uplechkin, nor the Pishsalver, agreed with his sensitive digestion helped the situation at all. On his third day at the castle, however, he was able to walk around once more. Mirana and Tarrant took his fully-regained strength to their advantage, and finally managed to corner him into the conversation that they wanted.

The trio was sitting in the main dining hall, eating supper at the long table. Mirana, as usual, was at the head, while the Hatter was to her right and Hamish to her left. They had been telling the Overlander bits and pieces of Alice's story, and tomight they reached the battle with the Jabberwocky. Hatter was the one who had initiated it. "It's amazing to me," he said, "that Alice could fend off – no, _kill_ – the most fearsome creature in all of Underland, yet meet her end in the boring world she lived in." There were no qualms calling the Overland boring – everyone knew it was true.

Hamish sipped his goblet (he never did ask what was in them) and sighed sadly. "I was told that she went down fighting, and managed to save several men in the process of her demise." Hatter shone with a kind-of sad pride, that his Alice (did he just think that?) had given her life for others'. It was such an _Alice_ way to go.

"How noble of her," The Queen said, also sadly. "If you don't mind my asking, though, you've never mentioned _how_ she died." It was a touchy subject, really. No one liked to talk about it, and it seemed to be an unspoken rule that you never actually _said_ that she had died. Mirana was the queen, though, and no one dared argue.

Hamish sighed. "I suppose I was going to have to mention it sooner or later—"

"Sooner, hopefully," the Hatter interrupted.

"—and it's only fair after the hospitality you've shown me." He took a deep, shaky breath, and began. "I've told you that Alice loved to explore. Well, after a rather embarrassing party at my estate," he dared not mention that he had asked for Alice's hand; he had no idea how the Hatter would react to that news. It was no secret to anyone but the man himself that he had more-than-platonic feelings for the late Champion. "She made arrangements with my father – the new owner of her late father's company – to travel to a faraway country and establish business there. My father agreed, and she set out the very next week.

"Everything was going well, we heard. Her mother and sister received letters from her, and my father received business documents signed by the new customers Alice managed to gain. About a year and a half after she left, we received a letter that she was to return home to London. She had fulfilled her hopes for China, and was ready for a new adventure. That was the last we heard from her." He paused him his story, only to find that he had begun to choke up. Hamish cleared his throat several times and took a sip from his goblet before continuing.

"We heard later that her ship, the _Wonder_, had been attacked by pirates. There were three survivors from the wreckage – the first mate, the chef, and a cabin boy – and they said that they wouldn't have made it back to their families if Alice hadn't been able to fend off several of the intruders long enough. They did mention that she knew how to wield a sword exceptionally well, and that makes sense now. Anyway, we all hoped that she was still alive, somewhere, having been taken hostage, or something. They told us that they had seen her stabbed and killed, though." There was a moment of silence as the two Underlandians took in the new information. The White Queen, ever the kindest, was the first to speak.

"How is her family? I vaguely remember you mentioning she had a sister, as well as her mother?" She asked quietly. Though she had wanted to know the circumstances of Alice's death herself, she know found that she wished she hadn't been told. Her question, however, only sparked more sadness in Hamish's expression.

"Oh, the Kingsleighs… or what's left of them." He sighed. "Her mother passed away from a stroke soon after Alice was pronounced… not with us any longer, and shortly after, her sister, Margaret, found that her husband, Lowell, had been cheating on her for a number of years. Poor Margaret divorced him, but she never was the same again. She's become somewhat of a spinster – she was close to her sister, and that sadness on top of hearing of her death took more than its share of a toll on her." He shook his head sadly and took another sip. Mirana sighed sadly, as well.

Hatter, who had been silent throughout almost the entire conversation, suddenly stood sharply. "'Scuse me, yer majesty. 'Amish." He then walked briskly from the room. Before he departed, however, Hamish was able to catch the orange – almost red – color of his eyes. It was going to take some getting used to, those changing eyes and accents, he decided.

Mirana only sighed. "Oh, Tarrant…" but he was already gone.

Immediately, Hamish realized his mistake. "I'm terribly sorry. I shouldn't have said all that in his pres—"

"He wanted to know as badly as I did; it's not your fault. The Hatter just… handles things differently than you and I." She interrupted as she stood. "Come, let us take a walk in the gardens. I have something I'd like to discuss with you." Hamish, still feeling guilty, obliged.

* * *

Hamish and Mirana walked through the palace gardens in silence for some time. The White Queen's expression kept changing from sadness to worry, from worry to anger, and from anger back to sadness. The redheaded lord followed closely behind, watching her. Finally he broke the suddenly-uncomfortable silence. "Your majesty, is something wrong?" he paused and caught himself. "I m-mean, other than the obvious predicament…"

She chuckled softly. "First, how many times must I ask you to call me Mirana?"

Hamish smiled. "At least once more, your majesty."

Mirana returned his smile, though it turned sad after a few moments. "And, to answer your question, there is something wrong, other than your news."

"Is there anything I can do?" he replied, worried.

"I don't believe so," she said. "Actually, your arrival came at such an unfortunate time." Hamish was about to apologize, but she cut him off. "It's not your fault; you didn't know about any of this."

"May I ask what is happening, or has happened?" Hamish inquired instead.

"It's a bit of a long story."

"I doubt I'm going anywhere any time soon." He said with a chuckle, trying to lighten the mood. She smiled again in return, and began her tale.

"Many years ago, when my sister still ruled Underland, several groups of people managed to escape by boat to some of the islands out at sea. They formed new civilizations, of sorts, and managed to stay away from the wrath of her rule. Iracebeth found out about it, of course, but by the time she had, they people had built up defenses enough to fend off the ships of soldiers she sent to punish them. After several attempts, she eventually gave up and let them be. If anyone tried to escape to them, however, they were easily caught and beheaded. Eventually, people lost touch with these other islands, and most people today don't even know about the other peoples' existence.

"After I regained the crown, word somehow reached the other lands. We began receiving messages from them, and, eventually, ships started coming. It was okay at first; they were mostly filled with people wanting to reconnect with their homeland and such. Soon, they were filled with not only people, but also goods to trade. That wasn't the problem, however. As it turns out, there is a path through the sea into your world. Captains began capturing people from the Otherland and bringing them to their islands as slaves. It became such a lucrative business, that more and more people bought and sold the poor people. When she ships started coming here, they brought their slaves to sell, as well as other things.

"I'm having trouble enforcing these distant lands to cease their practices, mainly because they have been under their own rule for so long and refuse to listen to the Underland monarchy. I would like to avoid a repeat of the happenings under the Red Queen's rule, but there is little I can do but free what slaves I can as their ships arrive at our ports." Mirana stopped and sighed, before turning to Hamish. "I'm sorry about getting you mixed up in all this; we really are trying to get you home as soon as possible. Things have just been a little… chaotic, lately. Especially with the news of our much-loved Champion's demise."

Hamish was at a loss for words after the Queen's story, and he could only offer a weak, "I-I had no idea," in response. She continued on, however.

"That's not what I asked you out here for, though," she said, resuming her walk. "I know that things are very different in your world, but I wanted to do something here to honor Alice's life. I was hoping you could help me."

"You mean a funeral?"

"Is that what they're called up there? That sounds so… depressing, if you don't mind my saying so. People don't often die here in Underland, but when they do, there is a party thrown to honor their life. It's such a happy occasion, with dancing, food, and reminiscing. Everyone who ever knew that person comes to the party, of sorts, and brings their greatest memory of the deceased to be passed around. There are speeches about the person's life, and stories are shared. You know Alice better than most of us, so I had hoped that you would give a speech in her honor." She turned her head towards Hamish, who was beginning to tear up in a very un-manly manner. "If you don't wish to, no one will force you."

"No, no; I'd be honored to. It's just that funerals where I am from are meant to be very sad, and everyone mourns over the death of a person rather than the life they had. It sounds so very much better here." He replied, trying to hide a discreet sniffle.

"Then why are you about to cry?" Mirana asked, concerned.

Hamish laughed sadly. "They sound very Alice-like, these Life Ceremonies of yours." He replied simply. The Queen nodded, and, to Hamish's surprise, began to tear up also. In the time that he had been here, he had never seen the Queen show so much emotion that he had seen on their brief walk, much less cry.

"Oh, don't be sad," He said, taking a hesitant step forward in an awkward attempt at comforting her. "Alice wouldn't like it. She always said that crying never accomplished anything." This earned a sad laugh from the Queen, though Hamish had no idea why.

Before he could say anything more, Mirana dried her eyes and smoothed her skirts. "Yes, you're right. It's no use being sad. Come, let us head back; we've gone farther than I had originally planned." Hamish nodded, and, as he looked around, saw that they had, in fact, traveled far into the woods past the palace gardens.

They resumed walking – though in the opposite direction this time – and they soon came to a path. Mirana suggested they take it back instead of continued through the forest, and Hamish agreed readily. He wasn't use to this much nature, much less Underlanian nature. Soon the path exited the woods, and the pair found themselves in a clearing. Hamish noticed immediately that something was amiss, however.

The clearing they had found themselves in was the very same place that housed the broken windmill and the ridiculous tea table, though the latter was in such disarray that both became very concerned. What was once a long table fashioned of many smaller ones was now no more, as many of the tables were either strewn about, smashed, or both. All but a few of the mismatched china pieces were in pieces and scattered around the grass, and the stack of books that Hamish had been placed on during his initial visit were ripped to shreds. The chairs were in a similar state to the tables, and the tablecloths had suffered a fate much like that of the books.

"Wh-what happened here?" Hamish asked fearfully. Mirana shared his expression of utter shock. Suddenly, there was a loud crash from inside the windmill, and a chair suddenly soared from one of the top windows, only to smash on the ground. "My God…" Mirana, however, instantly rushed towards the house. "What are you doing?" He asked in disbelief, rushing after her.

"It's Tarrant," she replied, not looking back as she opened the door just in time to hear another large crash. "He's not thinking straight."

Hamish grabbed her arm forcefully to stop her, "You have no idea what his mental state is! He could hurt you!"

She wrenched her arm from his grip and continued into the ransacked house. "If we don't do something, he'll hurt himself—" there was another smash, "—and possibly others." With that, she raced up the stairs toward the yells and other noises, and Hamish, against his better judgment, followed.

* * *

**AN: I am so so so so so sorry for the long wait! I promise the next chapter will be faster!! Thank you to all my loyal reviewers and readers, because I know I said that reviews brought faster chapters - which they still do - but things have been really crazy and... yeah, you guys probably don't want to hear my excuses. Anyways, you guys are so great, thank you so much for sticking with the story, whether your review or not!**

**Also, as an end note, the authoress never actually said whether Alice was really killed of or not. Just throwing that out there, so take it as you like. **


	4. Chapter 3

_"I'll never be the same_

_I'm caught inside the memories"_

**Chapter 3**

As the Mirana and Hamish ascended the stairs towards the chaos, they were able to make out the sounds more clearly. The crashes and smashes had become more frequent, and soon they could understand the yells and shouts. There seemed to be two voices. When they made it to the second level, they turned toward the second door on the right, where the sounds seemed to be coming from.

Mirana threw open the door, just in time to see a psychotic Hatter slam his fists down on a dresser, in the spot where Mally had been only seconds before. The force of the blow caused the wooden piece of furniture to crack substantially. "Get out o' 'ere!" the little dormouse screeched as she dodged another swing. "'Atter's finally lost—ee!" her next sentence was cut off into a yelp of pain as Tarrant's fist came in contact with her tail.

"Mally!" The Queen rushed forward to snatch up the little creature, only to have her way blocked by the Hatter.

"Yer comin' in me 'ouse just like tha' vermin! Ge' ou'!" he yelled in rage, as Mirana attempted to go around him. "Ge' ou'!" The White Queen stopped moving and looked him right in the eye.

"I'll leave as soon as I retrieve Mallymkun." She said calmly, noting with displeasure that Hatter's eyes were a deep red – the darkest she had ever seen them.

He didn't say anything for a few moments, but she saw that his fists were clenching and unclenching. He seemed to calm down, before she shook his head and took a step backwards. "No! No!" he yelled again, "Get out!" this time, when he spoke, it was deadly calm, and his accent had all but disappeared. Normally this would be a sign that he was coming out of the madness, but his eyes were still the hateful color.

Taking this momentary distraction to her advantage, Mirana quickly snatched up the little dormouse, who was nursing her throbbing tail, and bolted from the room. As she passed through the doorframe, she gripped Hamish's arm with her other free hand and all but ran down the stairs. When the trio made it outside and was able to catch her breath, she sat down the little mouse. Mirana turned to Hamish, only to find him in a state of shock, staring at her with a combination of confusion, fear, and remorse. "What just happened?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"You, dear Hamish, have just witnessed the Madness," she sighed running a hand through her white tresses. "For the second time, I believe." The redhead's mind flashed back to the incident at the tea table when he had first arrived. He shuddered at the thought.

"Does this h-happen often?" Hamish stuttered, still trying to regain his composure after the scene he had just witnessed. His respect and admiration increased tenfold after seeing the Queen stand up to the madman like that. He had known that she was strong, but he had never thought that she was that brave. Then again, there were things he was likely never to know about this world.

Mirana sighed as she crouched down to where Mally was still clutching her hurt tail. "More than it used to," she said. "These bouts came frequently while my sister was in power, and, after she was defeated, he seemed to calm down. As time went passed, however, they started coming more frequently. Since you've come, they've become few and far between. When they do happen, though, they are worse than the bouts have ever been." She picked up the dormouse, who winced at the movement. "I don't know what we're going to do if he keeps hurting people…" she sighed again.

After a few minutes, they began heading back to the castle. The journey was quiet, save for the occasional squeak from Mallymkun. When they arrived, Mirana immediately took the little mouse to her potions room to examine her tail properly. Hamish was left to do as he pleased, and he found himself wandering back in the direction of his room. Because of the lack of much to do, he decided that it would be best if he began work on the words he would say in Alice's honor at her memorial.

After removing his jacket and unbuttoning his collar slightly, he sat at the small desk in his room, and his mind began running through all the times that he and Alice had shared. It had been obvious that she had never fancied him that much, but, when they were little, they had been somewhat friends. Remembering Mirana's statement that this was a happy occasion, he decided to start at the beginning.

Whether it was because of the events of the day, the happy times he was reminiscing, or the fact that he simply wasn't tired, that Hamish worked late into the night. He poured his heart and soul into this one paper, trying to write something worthy of Alice. Maybe it was because he loved her and wanted to honor her properly… or maybe he was trying to prove to her – and possibly himself – that he wasn't the cold, stiff, heartless lord that she had always thought he was.

* * *

Hamish awoke with a start to a loud tapping. He looked around, briefly confused as to where he was, before he remembered that he had been writing the night before. Apparently, he had fallen asleep at the desk. The knock came again, and the redhead quickly attempted to smooth out his rumpled attire as he made his way over towards the door. He didn't really have to look his best for one of the servants come to wake him up, but his mother had always taught him that he had to, no matter what. The knocking came a third time, and Hamish barely had time to wonder why the maid wasn't just walking in like always before he opened the door to reveal Mirana standing outside his room.

She gasped a little as she took in his wild hair, wrinkled and slightly unbuttoned clothes, tired eyes, and a very peculiar ink smudge on his right cheek. Hamish blinked, then blinked again, before he realized just who was at his door and just how he must look. "Oh, um, y-your majesty, I didn't expect—"

Mirana began speaking at the same time, however, as both of their faces began turning slightly pink with embarrassment at the awkward situation. "I'm terribly sorry, I'll just return later when—" both stopped when they realized that neither could hear the other.

"You first," Hamish mumbled as he furiously tried to button his collar and flatten his hair. The White Queen had to suppress a giggle at how flustered he looked; as was becoming evident, he wasn't used to being around women very much.

"I came to talk to you about the memorial, but I'll return later when the time is more appropriate." She had to suppress her laughter once more as the redhead struggled to tame a stray cowlick. She had to admit, he looked rather adorable when he was embarrassed.

"I do apologize," Hamish replied, "I wasn't really expecting anyone… would you like to come in?"

The Queen shook her head and smiled. "No, no; I'll let you get ready for the day, and we shall talk over lunch."

"Yes, that sounds—lunch? How long have I slept?" he mumbled the last part to himself, but the white-haired woman still caught it. "I shall see you then, then." He said louder, as Mirana began slowly walking backwards back down the hall. She gave a small wave and a smile, before she turned around and began walking forwards. Hamish shut the door quickly, and leaned his back against it. "Well, that was awkward," he said to no one in particular, before he began a quick bath.

* * *

Only a little later, Hamish emerged from his room and made his way towards the dining hall. Sure enough, it was empty save for Mirana at her seat. He quickly approached her, and she smiled when she saw him. "Terribly sorry about all that," he said as he sat down next to her.

"No problem at all," she replied, picking up her goblet. "It was actually quite comical," she chuckled. Hamish huffed indignantly in response, but smiled to show that his feathers weren't ruffled in the least at the comment.

"Now, what did you want to ask me about?" He asked, getting right down to business.

"Have you gotten he chance to start on your speech, yet?" she asked in return. "I know it's still early, but I wanted to have the memorial as soon as possible. Word is already getting around about Alice…" she sighed.

"Actually, I finished just last night," he replied. "I hope it's what you had in mind, but I'm not used to life down here."

"I'm sure it's excellent. Quite honestly, I think it'll be wonderful if it reflects the style from her homeland. It is the perfect way to honor both Alice's worlds." She smiled sadly, as they both continued eating in silence.

After a few more moments, Hamish spoke once more. "When were you thinking of having the ceremony?"

"I was hoping to have it tonight, actually, seeing as you're already finished."

"That soon, really?" he asked in shock. What about the planning? The invitations? Everything else?

"Time is different here," Mirana said. "If one asks nicely enough, everything that needs to be done will get completed." That made absolutely no sense to Hamish whatsoever, but he had spent enough time in Underland to know that there were just some things that one didn't question. The meal went on in silence once more, until Hamish thought of another question.

"How is the Hatter after yesterday? And Mally?"

"Mally is quite alright, actually. Her tail was only bruised, and should be sore but okay. Hatter, on the other hand…" she paused and sighed. "He really doesn't even remember yesterday's incident. He feels dreadful about the whole thing, though. I don't know what I'm going to do," she paused again, "If he keeps getting this terribly violent, I am going to have to take some kind of action."

"Do you know what's been causing him to go… Mad?" Hamish asked, though he felt he already knew.

"The news you've brought us about Alice is likely the cause, paired with the fact that Tarrant was the one most hurt by her departure. Now that she's not coming back… I don't know what's going to happen to him." She sighed once more.

"This really is mostly my fault," Hamish said sadly. "If I hadn't fallen down that blasted rabbit hole, everything here would have continued on normally."

"Oh, no, don't regret coming here for something that would have happened anyway. It would have hurt Tarrant even more if Alice never came back, but no one knew why. Or even if McTwisp brought the news, himself. Besides, I'm quite glad you came… you've given everyone a breath of fresh air," she added the last part quickly. The pair finished their meal, but continued to talk until well after their plates were taken away by the servants. Hamish continued to inquire about Underland in general, while Mirana asked questions about life in London. "Life up there seems quite boring," she said at one point. Hamish only laughed, and heartily agreed.

"It is definitely nothing like here." Eventually, they both went their separate ways. Mirana to plan this evening, and Hamish to perfect his speech.

* * *

Several hours later, Hamish emerged from his room once more to find the White Queen. He realized sometime during the afternoon that he had no idea what the memorial was going to be like, where he was going to have to stand, sit, speak, attempt not to sob, and possibly stutter, or who else was going to attend. As he walked through the halls, he saw frogs, fish, and other servants busily hanging up festive blue decorations along the walls and columns. Very Alice-like, he thought to himself.

Soon, he made his way out to the main courtyard, where he saw that small stage-like area where he had been told Mirana had asked for a Champion so long ago had been decorated much in the same way as the castle. There were streamers and banners of every shade of blue hanging about, and the flowers that grew along the balcony were being painted the same hue. This activity caused him to raise his eyebrows, but, again, he decided not to question it.

Finally, he spotted Mirana among a crowd consisting of the Tweedles, McTwisp, Mally, Ullimean the dodo, and Chessur. He noticed that the Hatter was strangely absent from his usual crowd, but didn't think too much about it. He was probably still upset from the day before, and it was most likely best if he didn't come to the memorial. "Ah, Hamish!" The Queen smiled when she saw him approach. "I was just about to send for you." He smiled in return.

"'Ello, 'Amish!" Mally grinned, waving from her perch on Mirana's shoulder.

"Good evening, Mally, how is your tail faring?" he replied.

"Good as new," she replied, swishing it to prove her point. "Wha'eva' the Whi'e Queen gave me 'ealed me righ' up!"

"Excellent to hear," he smiled at her, before glancing back at Mirana. "You said you needed me?" he asked.

"Oh, yes, I was going to tell you how this evening was going to go." Hamish breathed a sigh of relief at her words. "Mally, why don't you and the others go check on Thackery in the kitchen?" the little mouse saluted her Queen and hopped off her shoulder, onto Tweedledee's.

"It be my turn to escort Miss Mally!" his brother complained as the group began walking off.

"Contrary-wise, she hopped onto my shoulder first, right she did," was the response.

"Boys!" Mally cried as they continued on. "Ye can carry me back, once we've seen 'ow 'Ackery's doin'!" she told Tweedledum. Both Hamish and Mirana watched the scene, trying to suppress laughter.

Once the others were out of sight, the Queen turned back to the redhead, and begun explaining how the evening was to unfold.

* * *

As it turned out – much to Hamish's dismay – much of Underland's countless residents turned up for the occasion. There were sea lions, walking fish, frogs, giraffes, horses, mice, cats, dogs, clams, foxes, birds, flowers, bugs, lions, tigers, wolves, donkeys, rabbits, a Bandersnatch, and the occasional human all in attendance. After seeing the crowd, he immediately grew cold feet, and it took more than a little begging from the Queen for him to stay. He was never one for crowds.

The memorial began with a great banquet, and there were endlessly long tables laid out with every kind of food imaginable… and some that one couldn't. As the merriment began, Hamish started to relax. He sat at a table with Alice's closest Underlandian friends, and was, thankfully, placed next to Mirana. As was customary, people began sharing stories about Alice, though Hamish's table likely had the most interesting.

"She was always late for t-t-tea!" The March Hare stuttered, taking a shaky sip from his teacup. "H-helped get t-t-time back on t-track, she did, t-too!"

"She did have a nasty habit of never coming on time," McTwisp added.

Conversation continued on for some time like this, until Mirana rose and addressed the entire crowd. "Normally, this would be the time for the honored to have a speech read by his or her family, but, as we have no family of our dear Champion's here with us, a dear friend and fellow Otherlander of Alice's will speak instead." She gave a pointed – yet encouraging – look towards Hamish, who took this as his cue to rise and make his way towards the stage. There was a small pedestal set up for him to speak at, and his papers were already set up waiting for him. Hamish cleared his throat and gazed out at the large—no, the huge crowd looking expectantly at him, and began.

"When Alice was six years old, she began talking of a magnificently mad place called Wonderland. I listened while she explained of grinning cats and talking plants, but I, myself, thought she had gone quite mad, as well. You see, at the time, we were friends. We were friends, but our parent's had other plans.

"As we grew, it was decided that we were to be married—" there were several gasps throughout the crowd "—though Alice was very against it. We both knew that I wouldn't ever make her happy, and if Alice wasn't happy, then I wasn't; even though I very much wanted to be the one who could. She learned to hate me, thanks to our families' plans, and never really smiled much, anymore. Things became even worse when her beloved father died, and I thought I'd never hear her laugh again."

There were several sniffs from the now-teary congregation. "Then, one day, she disappeared for several hours. When she returned, she was completely changed. Told everyone off at the party we were attending, and then promptly walked out. I daren't say they didn't deserve it, but it was quite shocking to see the old Alice return. It made me remember why I had become close to the crazy little six-year-old who was always getting herself into a mess.

"Soon after, she left for adventure in a place called China. She was following her father's brilliant vision, and I don't think I've ever seen her as happy as she was the day her ship – ironically named the Wonder – set sail and left port." Hamish paused and sighed. "I don't know who was hurt hardest by the news of her ship's attack and Alice's death; her family, me, or you, people of Underland. I didn't know the Alice you knew, but I cared for her all the same. She'll hold a special place in my heart – as a dear friend – and I know that she'll be remembered even greater here, in the place she truly belonged." Without another word, Hamish left the stage, but not before he caught a glimpse or fiery-orange duck into the near-by bushes.

Most of those present were openly crying now, as well as the majority of the Queen's table. "That was beautiful, Hamish," she said quietly, dabbing her eyes daintily with her lace handkerchief. She spoke only loud enough for him to hear.

"I realize that this was supposed to be a happy occasion, but…" he sighed and blinked his eyes several times to hold back the tears. Mirana placed a comforting hand on his arm.

"You've brought us a little piece of your world, and for that we are grateful." She smiled sadly at him, and he returned the gesture. Suddenly, a white pawn chess-knight appeared behind the Queen, and bent to whisper something in her ear. She sighed, and her mouth turned down into a slight frown. "Alright, thank you. I shall join them as soon as possible." With a bow, the knight left.

"May I ask what is wrong?" Hamish asked, continuing to keep his voice low.

Mirana sighed again. "A ship has just arrived in port from one of the surrounding islands. As is custom, I am to choose first what 'goods' I would like to purchase, before the other wares are sold to shops and merchants."

"Including slaves?" Hamish asked, finally understanding. The White Queen only nodded sadly in response.

* * *

**AN: Well, here is the next chapter. I'm terribly sorry that it's so ridiculously choppy and such, as I've had such trouble writing this. (Not to mention I'm on cold medication, and am home sick from school.) I hope it's up to standards, and I promise that the next chapter will **_**definitely**_** make up for this one. *winkwinknudgenudge***

**As always, please review! IT WILL HELP ME GET WELL. (Okay, so maybe not really… but it's the thought that counts…right…?)**


	5. Chapter 4

"_Somebody help me through this nightmare_

_I can't control myself_

_Somebody wake me from this nightmare_

_I can't escape this hell"_

**Chapter 4**

"You go to great lengths to keep these things a secret… May I ask why?" Hamish asked shyly. Lately he had been getting that way around the White Queen. The pair had just departed from the festivities, though the party was still in full swing. Currently, they taking a detour though the gardens on their way back towards the castle.

Mirana sighed. "There are people here in Underland who are not as… understanding as you and I. They would embrace – and take full advantage of – the idea of free labor. That is something that I cannot allow my beloved land to fall into." The redhead nodded.

The queen sighed once more. "I really do despise going to these 'special sales', as one captain once referred to it as. It always causes me so much stress to see all the people in such horrible condition. I know I can help them, but it's when I think about all the others that I couldn't help that I get upset." She sniffled in a very human and down-to-earth manner, and Hamish felt his heart go out her. Tentatively, he wrapped a comforting arm around the distraught Queen.

"But just think of those whom you _have_ helped. You've given them a new lease on life; completely changed them for the better." He smiled softly at her, and she returned it slowly. "Now, um, you never did tell me why we were going back to the castle." He gazed up at the darkening sky, his arms still around Mirana's shoulders as they walked.

"I plan to go to the ship early tomorrow morning, so that I am missed very little. I was wondering… if you'd like to accompany me…?" Now it was her turn to be shy, as she gazed up at him – for he was several inches taller than her – with wide eyes. Hamish stared back into her eyes, thinking how he could never say no to them. He caught himself before he could go any further with those thoughts however. He loved Alice, and there was no changing that.

"I would be honored, Your Majesty," he smiled at her. She seemed quite relieved at his answer, and smiled shyly again. "I-I assume there will be others there, as well?" he stuttered slightly, trying to keep from getting distracted.

Mirana seemed to shake her head slightly, before returning her eyes to the path ahead. "Yes, there will be several knights present. McTwisp and Tarrant usually accompany me, as well." She sighed.

"Speaking of Tarrant, I noticed he wasn't at the, eh, memorial. Do you think he's alright?" Hamish asked, sensing her worry for their friend.

"One never knows with the Hatter. As you've figured out, no doubt, he wears his emotions on his sleeve. Things affect him differently than the rest of us…" she gazed off at the flowers they passed, and the pair continued their journey in silence, each lost in their own thoughts.

Soon they arrived at the palace doors. Hamish realized that he still had his arm around Mirana, and he quickly withdrew it before the knights standing guard noticed – or at least that's what he told himself. He blushed profusely and turned his head, and, if he had looked, he would have seen the White Queen do the same. When they approached the entrance, the two chess pieces bowed and opened the doors for them. Mirana nodded regally at them both, and gave a small smile.

Once they were inside, several of the remaining servants stood at attention in the main hall where the two had found themselves. Mirana gave Hamish a smile and curtsied, much to his surprise. "I will leave you to your chambers, Mr. Ascott. Sleep well, for I have the feeling that tomorrow will be quite an adventure." Her eyes twinkled as she smiled slightly wider.

Hamish bowed in response, took her hand, and kissed it – much to both parties' surprise. "I bid you good evening, Your Majesty." He smiled at her, as a light blush spread across her pale cheeks.

As he walked down the hall and thought about the day's events, however, he couldn't help but wish that Alice were here.

**

* * *

**

The next morning, Hamish woke and quickly dressed, intending to go talk with the Queen about the day's plans. As soon as he stepped out into the hall, he nearly ran into the one person he was least expecting to see. "Tarrant? What are you doing here?" he asked, confused. He noticed that the color of the Hatter's eyes was a soft blue, before the eccentric man pulled the brim of his ever-present hat a little lower, covering them.

"I just wanted to tell you that your speech last night was… very moving," he said softly, turning to leave. "You must have known Alice very well to write about her like that." Before the other redhead could say anything in response, however, he disappeared down the hall. Both confused and touched by what had just happened, Hamish continued on his way.

He found the Queen and the White Rabbit sitting in the dining hall, having a private breakfast. Though it was still quite early, they looked to be just finishing up. When Mirana spotted him, she smiled. "Good morning, Hamish. I'm so glad you could join us, though I'm afraid we're about done."He gestured towards the other seat next to her, and he happily sat down.

"No worries, your majesty," he replied, returning the smile. "I simply came to ask about this morning's plans." A cup of tea was placed in from of him hastily by one of the servants, and he took a sip.

"Excellent," she replied. "It is not complicated in the least, though." She gestured towards McTwisp, who was still silent and watching Hamish. "We will depart by carriage very soon, and meet the captain of the _Ifreann_ – that's the name of the ship. I've heard that he is a very agreeable man, so we should have few problems. I will, as expected, purchase all of those for sale. Several knights will be waiting with carriages for them, as well, and when we arrive they will be given a second chance at life."

"If they are from my world, though, shouldn't they be returned?" Hamish asked, taking another sip from his teacup.

The Queen sighed. "In theory, yes, they should. It is nearly impossible to transport that many people back, though, and if we were to do it by ship – as the captains do – we would arouse too much suspicion. There is a high chance that the transports would also be captures once more, as well." Hamish nodded.

"Yes, well," he paused, thinking of what to say next. "Didn't you mention that Tarrant usually joined you?"

Mirana nodded, "Yes, he will be meeting us at the docks. He said that he had… some things to work out beforehand." Neither mentioned anything more on the subject. They continued to sit in silence while Hamish finished his tea. Soon however, the atmosphere became slightly uncomfortable. As if right on cue, a white knight appeared behind the Queen, and whispered something to her. She sighed, but tried to maintain her happy manner. She thanked him, and turned to the other two present, who were giving her confused looks. "The carriage is ready; is everyone set to depart?" she asked, her smile strained.

Hamish nodded and rose, pulling the Mirana's chair out for her. She gave him a small, genuine smile, before they headed out towards their awaiting ride.

* * *

When they arrived at the edge of the sea, where the docks and ship were waiting, Hamish nearly gasped. From what he could tell from between the trees, the water was a startling shade of – no, not blue, nor green, not even brown – _purple_. It was the strangest sight, and the redhead found himself gazing out the carriage window, straining to see another glimpse of it. He snapped back to semi-reality when they jolted to a stop, however.

McTwisp exited first, seemingly in a hurry of some kind as he practically leaped onto the ground and nearly fainted. Apparently, he wasn't a fan of riding in such vehicles. Hamish was next, and he helped Mirana step out. "Thank you," she said, giving him another small smile, before she turned to the horses who had been pulling them. "And thank you, Nasterson, as well."

The one closest to her – obviously the leader, named Nasterson – bowed its head respectfully. "Our pleasure, my Queen; shall we wait for your return?"

"That would be lovely." With that, they turned towards the direction of the sea, the White Rabbit leading the way. Hamish offered Mirana his arm, which she took, and the foursome set off towards the docks.

The water, indeed was the suspected unusual shade. "The water is _purple_!" Hamish exclaimed when they finally broke through the trees lining the little path onto the beach. Mirana nearly laughed at his excitement.

"What color were you expecting it to be?" she asked, amused.

"Blue," he replied mesmerized by the beautiful picture before him. When he looked at the ground, however, he let out another exclamation of surprise. "And the sand is _green_!"

"A blue ocean, really? Is that what they're like in the Aboveland? And what were you expecting the sand to be… tan?" she smiled at him.

The redhead continued to gape at the scene. "Yes, actually; the sand is tan and the sea is blue… This is absolutely beautiful…" He added the last part softly, intending to mean the beach, though his gaze wandered to the woman next to him as he said it. She promptly blushed and looked away.

Her expression became suddenly excited. "Ah, yes, there they are!" she gently tugged Hamish to the right, and he finally laid eyes on the docks and the _Ifreann_. The ship itself looked normal enough, though Hamish had been expecting something as strange and peculiar as everything else in the land.

As they approached, they saw that Tarrant had beaten them here; neither bothered to ask how, though. The Hatter was currently conversing with a small, stout man, who grinned widely when he noticed them approaching. He had a round face and pink cheeks, and his hair was a greasy brown. "Your Majesty," he gave a sweeping bow, before taking the Queen's hand and kissing it. For some reason, this made Hamish uneasy. "Thank you for coming to my humble ship. It is no more worthy to be in your presence than I." He gave another bow, and Mirana gave a strained smile.

"I assume you are Captain Ghleo?" she asked, glancing toward the Hatter, who was now standing next to her. He seemed back to his old, jovial self, as if last night hadn't happened at all. Hamish silently admired the man for being able to calm himself when it came time.

"Indeed I am, your majesty, and this is the _Ifreann_." He gave a sweeping motion towards the beautiful piece of artisanship before them, and Hamish found himself thinking that Alice would have loved to see such a sight. "Shall I call out the merchandise for you to browse?" Mirana nodded regally, and Ghleo turned and gave a signal to two men that Hamish just noticed were standing at the end of the board going up into the ship. They nodded and retreated onto the deck, out of sight.

After a few moments, one of the big, burly men reappeared, followed by a line of weak and dirty men and woman. Hamish was astounded at the sight, and even more so when he realized that these weren't all English prisoners, either. From what he could see there were people from almost every nationality and walk of life, all brought together under the same horribly disturbing circumstances. The other bouncer-like man brought up the rear of the line.

As they watched, the line of people for sale formed a row in front of the group, each of the large men maintaining their positions at the left and right ends. Ghleo grinned almost evilly as he watched. "They are all every well behaved," he told the Queen. "I would only offer the best for royalty." With another nod, the Queen gestured toward Tarrant, who began walking along the row to the left, pretending to inspect each person he passed. Mirana did the same in the right direction, followed by the captain. Hamish, at a loss of what to do, stayed with McTwisp in the same spot.

As Mirana walked, she gave a small – almost secretive – smile to each person she passed. Most had their heads down, but the few that saw caught on and quickly lowered their head to keep from smiling. Meanwhile, the short man was chattering away about the quality and obedience of his slaves. It was all the Queen could do not to throw up right then, the way that the selfish man was going on about them as if they were livestock. As she reached the end of the row, a little sob caught her attention. Mirana paused in front of a brown-haired woman – one of the few who would look the Queen in the eye. The woman looked to be strong and defiant, and she wore a simple dirty-red dress; most definitely not the source of the sound.

The captain noticed that the Queen was no longer following, and scowled at the woman. "There's nothing special about that one, if you'd excuse my forwardness, Your Majesty. I do feel that Teresa would be a much better choice for someone of your standing. She is—" Mirana cut him off with a wave of her hand, and she soon heard a sniffle from the woman's direction. This time, though, the Queen was sure it wasn't her. Carefully, she peered around the brunette – who was now glaring daggers at her – and what she saw made her heart clench.

Cowering behind the woman, a little girl clutched to her skirts for dear life. The child could not have been a day over six years old, and she looked thoroughly scared. "Hush, Mia," the woman said, placing a hand protectively on the girl's back.

Mirana smiled at the woman, who still stared at her, distrusting, and knelt down to the little girl's level. "What ever is the matter, Miss Mia?" she asked gently. The little girl peeked out from around the woman's skirts to look at the Queen with wide eyes. Mirana now saw that they were a startling lime – a color that rivaled even Tarrant's – and that she had orange hair that fell past her shoulders in messy ringlets. She was unbearably thin, and was currently trying not to cry.

Mia sniffled a little more, and said, "Mummy," she said quietly, burying herself again in the woman's skirts.

"Don't worry," she replied in the same gentle tone. "You and your mum will be coming home with me soon, and things will be better." She stood and looked the other woman in the eye. "I promise."

The slave woman opened her mouth to respond. There was another tiny sob, however, and Mia spoke up instead, "No it won't." She sniffled.

Upon hearing this, Ghleo advanced toward the little group, almost threateningly. "That is no way to talk to a Queen. I'll only ask once more, Andrea; control that brat." His voice was low and menacing, but the woman – Andrea – didn't flinch or take her eyes off Mirana.

She simply pulled the little redhead closer and said, "Shh, Mia; now is not the time." Mirana now noticed that she had an accent similar to that of the people who lived in the Outlands.

The Queen peered around at the little girl once more, who now had started crying again. "I promise it will, and when I make a promise, I keep it," Mirana said sweetly.

"But you said you'd take my mummy, but you won't." Mia replied, peeping out towards her.

"I will, though." She motioned toward Andrea, "You will both come home with me to the palace."

Mia gave her a strange look. "That's not mummy, that's Aunt Rea." Now it was Mirana's turn to be confused. She stood upright once more and turned to the brunette woman.

"You are not her mother? Then where is she?" By now, the Hatter had made his way back across the row. Upon seeing the exchange, he stopped by the Queen. Ghleo tried to break into the conversation, though.

"Her mother died several months ago. The poor child is delusional in thinking that she is still here some—" He said sharply, almost panicking.

Mirana held up a hand to silence him. "Why isn't she here?" she asked Andrea.

The brunette woman squared her shoulders, but anyone could see the sudden uneasiness in her eyes. "Her mother is—" she was cut off when an inhuman screech, followed by a terrible crash, resonated through the air.

At the sound, both Andrea and Ghleo went very pale, and the other slaves began shifting uncomfortably and giving one another uneasy looks. Tarrant took a step forward, ready to board the ship and investigate. "No, wait—" Ghleo suddenly exclaimed, but Andrea cut him off.

She gave a curt bow to the Queen, and said "Excuse me, Yer Majesty," she quickly whispered something to Mia, before she nearly took off running towards the ship. The little girl merely stood there, watching the woman with wide eyes.

Ghleo started to call her back, but another crash sounded through the air, instead. Mirana, who was watching the whole scene, suddenly snapped out of her stupor. "Tarrant!" she said, worry evident in her voice. Immediately, the Hatter nodded and raced after the brunette, who was just boarding the ship. She turned toward the captain, who now looked increasingly nervous. "Captain Ghleo, what is going on?"

**

* * *

**

As she raced through across the deck and down into the hull of the _Ifreann_, Andrea cursed under her breath. Soon, she heard footsteps following her, but she paid them no mind. She just had to get there before—Another scream ripped though the air, and the feral sound sent shivers up her spine. Instead of faltering, however, she only pushed to go faster.

The Hatter wasn't far behind, but he was catching up fast. Rather abruptly, Andrea skidded to a halt outside one of the many doors that they were passing in the halls, and tried the knob. It was locked, so the woman kicked it open with such force that he wouldn't have thought she possessed. Immediately, she raced in. He reached the door seconds after she entered, but what he saw made him stop dead in his tracks.

The room appeared to be the captain's quarters, with a bed up against one wall, and a desk at the foot. It was strewn with maps and various navigation instruments, and there was a lamp sitting on it. In another corner, there looked to be a small table and chairs, though one of the chairs was missing, having been smashed into several pieces that were now scattered about the room. It wasn't the room's décor that caught him off guard, though. It was what he saw _happening_ in the room.

Two people looked to be engaged in a fight against one of the walls. One was a tall man with greasy black hair, much like Ghleo's. He was currently backed up against the wall, his eyes wide with fear, as he was being pinned down by the other person. This other person wore a tattered blue dress, and had long, matted, dirty, blonde hair. Even without being able to see her face, he knew who it was.

"Alice, no!" Andrea yelled, immediately grabbing her by the arms and pinning them behind her back. The Champion let out a low, almost animalistic growl as she struggled to break free from her grip. Something clattered to the floor, and the Hatter now saw that Alice had been holding a blade to the man's neck.

"Alice…?" he whispered, unsure. She sure wasn't acting like the Alice he knew. Instead of responding, however, she lunged again at the man who was now slumped on the floor. It took all of Andrea's strength to keep her restrained, but both ended up on the floor in her efforts.

"Don't just stand there, grab 'im!" She yelled to the Hatter, her voice full of panic.

"But—"

"Do it!" she yelled again. Tarrant now noticed that the man was trying to crawl away, and he kept shooting fearful glances back at the blonde woman on the floor. Still in a kind of daze, he roughly grabbed the man and hauled him up. Around this time, Hamish came running up behind him, having heard the commotion.

"What is—Oh my God!" He exclaimed as he entered the room and laid eyes on the feral Alice. She had stopped struggling against Andrea's grip, and the brunette slowly released her. Everything was very still and quiet for what seemed like hours, before the man whom the Hatter still had a grip on spoke up.

"She's insane! She attacked me with no reason, and tried to kill me! She's completely lost her mind!" he said, eyes wide and a panicked expression on his face. Immediately, Andrea was in front of him, having left Alice's body curled on the floor.

"Ye've been givin' it to 'er again, 'aven't ye?" She yelled in his face, her voice filled with venom. She grabbed the collar of his shirt when he didn't answer immediately.

"Did you not see what she just tried to do?" he replied, attempting to look strong, but clearly shaken.

"Yer the only reason she's like that!" Andrea yelled back, her voice getting even louder. Suddenly, something moving caught Hamish's attention, as he had been watching Andrea and the man. It was Alice, slowly coming back to the world. He panicked for a second, wondering if she was going to attack them as she had this man.

However, she only stirred and let out a weak, "Andrea…?" Immediately, the brunette dropped the man and rushed to her side. Before anyone could say anything, however, Alice raised her head for the first time and looked about the room, which was a complete wreck. She let out a sharp gasp. "I did it again." She said quietly, her expression full of shock and remorse. Andrea helped her sit up, and tried to comfort her.

"It's not yer fault, love. 'E's been givin' it to ye again, and whatever 'appened in 'ere set ye off. It can't be 'elped." She soothed quietly, as the others in the room watched, astounded. Alice, however, seemed to just notice them. She let out a small, frightened yelp, and immediately back up against the wall.

"Alice…?" Hatter whispered, forgetting for a moment that he still held the man. Hamish started to take a step forward, as well, but both were stopped with a glare from Andrea. Alice looked back and forth between the two redheaded men, her eyes wide with fear.

"What did I do, now…?" she asked softly, never taking her eyes off those in front of her. Suddenly, she let out a minor hiss, and quickly looked at her hand. There was a large cut across her palm, and it began bleeding quite profusely. She looked down at the ground where her hand had been, and saw that, in her haste to back up, she had made her way over to the knife. Her eyes widened even further when she laid eyes on the weapon, and immediately, she turned to Andrea. "What did I do?" she repeated. Her eyes began welling up with tears, and her face was a mix of fear, worry, and shame.

In response, the brunette turned to the three who were still standing near the door. "It'd be best if ye left, and took that devil with ye. Don't listen to a word 'e says." She ordered, before turning back to the blonde. Before anyone else could move, however, a little orange blur buzzed past the three standing at the door, and immediately Mia threw herself into Alice's arms.

"Mummy!" she cried, burying her little tear-stained face in Alice's hair. Mirana came up close behind her, clearly winded, followed by Ghleo and a white guard.

"She took off running, and—What happened here?" The Queen exclaimed when she took a look around the destroyed room and those in it. As all these new people came flooding into the tiny room, Alice clutched Mia closer and backed up closer to the wall, clearly scared.

As calmly as she could without exploding, Andrea said, "Please, Yer Majesty, please get everyone out." Mirana took one look at Alice, and she nodded, before ushering all the others out of the room. There would be time for explanations later.

* * *

**AN: *Grins* Who totally didn't see that coming? *no one raises hand* FINE. So maybe I'm not the best at surprises, but at least it has finally been made known that ALICE ISN'T DEAD. Now y'all can't kill me! Yay! XD I've already started on the next chapter, but, since finals start next week (GAH! NOO!), I probably won't get a lot of time to write, seeing as I'll be smashing my head against my textbooks, trying to absorb the information. (Yeah, _anyone _can study. It takes skill to add violence in and still pass. BAM.)**

**Also, I'd like to give a big round of applause to my Beta, Audrey33. WUFF!**


	6. Chapter 5

"_One of these days letters are gonna fall from the sky…_

… _telling us all to go free…_

_But until that day I'll find a way to let everybody know that you're coming back…_

… _you're coming back for me…"_

**Chapter 5**

When the door snapped shut, the small group stood in the hallway in dumbfounded silence. They all found themselves wondering the same things. Had that really just happened? Was that really Alice? Why was the little girl calling her 'mummy'? Tarrant found that the last question had a greater affect on him, and he wondered with detached curiosity why the thought of Alice loving someone upset him so.

After a few moments of simply standing there, the trio snapped out of their stupor just in time to see the other two men attempting to sneak away. "Captain, I would like a word with you," Mirana said calmly, yet with a firmness that Hamish hadn't heard before.

The small man turned around slowly, his expression a mask of indifference. "Yes, your Majesty?" he said, reaching a hand out to halt the other man, who was still on the move. "If you don't mind my saying so, however, I think it would be best if we conversed outside, in a less… cramped environment?"

The Queen nodded stiffly. "Tarrant? Would you lead the way?" The Hatter simply moved forward, and, as he passed, both Hamish and the Queen saw that his eyes had turned a fiery orange. Whether they knew the meaning of the color change or not – or even whether they noticed it or not – both sailors seemed to realize that their means of escape had just been cut off. The taller one visibly gulped at the sight of Tarrant's flat-out menacing expression. They walked out onto the deck, but the open air did little to ease the nearly-visible tension surrounding the little party. Hamish noticed that most of the prisoners were gone, but before he could ask, he saw a white knight shuffling several of the last to an awaiting carriage. If captain Ghleo noticed that the Queen was practically confiscating his 'cargo', he said nothing.

As soon as the group stepped off the ramp and onto solid ground, they stopped. They merely stood there in silence a moment, each reacting differently to the – unusual , to say the least – situation. Tarrant's eyes kept changing from orange to blue to green, and then back again. Hamish periodically rubbed his temples as if he was getting a headache, and kept shooting confused glances toward the ship. Mirana looked strangely calm, but if one knew her well enough they would have seen how her raised hands twitched every so often in agitation. Ghleo looked as if he was trying to maintain an indifferent demeanor, but he was failing horribly. The mystery man looked nervous and somewhat frightened.

"What is your name, sir?" Mirana asked calmly, looking right in the tall man's eyes.

"Wh-What?" he stammered, jumping at the sudden noise on the now-quiet beach.

"Get a grip, sailor!" the captain snapped, cutting in. "Her majesty asked for your name." He glared at the other man, who seemed to shrink under his gaze.

"Captain," Mirana said sternly, "I don't believe I addressed you."

"A thousand pardons, your majesty," the little man replied less-than-sincerely.

"Now, your name, sir?" She turned back to the matter at hand.

"Byrant Ipshaw, f-first mate of-f the _Ifreann_," he answered nervously, glancing from side to side. Mirana raised an eyebrow at his behavior. Then again, anyone would be more than a tad shaken up after an attempt on their life.

"And why, exactly, did the woman attack you?"

Again, the man seemed to hesitate before answering, and, again, Captain Ghleo interrupted.

"That woman is a murderess, your majesty, and my poor sailor is in no such condition to discuss these matters at the moment. You saw yourself what the wretch can do, and she should be punished immediately. There is no telling the danger she could pose to others if kept as she is," he said, straightening his jacket and giving Byrant a pointed look.

Tarrant, who had been silent this entire time, finally erupted. "An' wha' would cause 'er tae be tha' way, eh? An' wha' wou' she be doin' on yer ship in the first place, ye slurvish—"

"Tarrant!" Mirana snapped, breaking the Hatter from his brief spell of madness. "Calm yourself. Hamish? Would you be so kind as to escort everyone back to my carriage? I'd like to have a word with the madwoman's keeper myself. Call a second carriage when you arrive back at Marmoreal, if you please." She gave a pointed look to Hamish, who immediately understood – being the sharp Englishman he was – that he was not only to keep Tarrant under control and keep an eye on the two men, but also to keep the full extent of Alice's identity a secret.

"Your majesty, there is no telling what that lunatic can do. Perhaps I should accompany you," Ghleo said, as Hamish and Tarrant exchanged a few private words.

"I feel confident that I shall be fine without your presence," the Queen replied.

"Please, your majesty, I insist."

"If it disturbs you that much, sir, then I shall have a guard accompany me." She waved over one of the white knights that had just stepped back through the trees, who immediately joined the little group at her command. Ghleo's eyes hardened, but he feigned relief at the statement.

"Thank you, your majesty; you know my only concern is your safety." With a nod towards Hamish, the Queen and the knight disappeared into the ship once more. Hamish, at the Queen's command, began leading the remaining three toward the awaiting royal carriage. All of the others, now containing the soon-to-be freed slaves, had long since departed.

"Nasterson?" the redhead called as they approached. The horse stood at attention, though he looked around in confusion when he saw that Mirana wasn't with them.

"Yes, sir?"

"Her majesty requests that we return to the castle without her."

"Sir?"

"We will send for another at once, when we arrive at the castle," at that, the talking horse seemed satisfied, and the four men entered the coach to depart.

**

* * *

**

Neither Hamish nor Tarrant saw either hide or hair of either Mirana, Alice, Andrea, or Mia for the rest of the day. They escorted Byrant and Ghleo to the castle and left them in the hands of several guards, unsure of what else to do. Eventually, Hamish returned to his chambers and Hatter to the windmill, as there was little more that they could do.

"Tarrant," Hamish had said as the Hatter had started to leave back down the road. The madman had turned around, his coloring slightly faded and his eyes blue with worry. "She'll be okay." He wasn't sure whether he was trying to help himself or Tarrant, though. Tarrant had nodded, attempted to smile reassuringly – but failed – and continued on his way.

The next morning, Mirana reappeared looking tired; worry lines creased her forehead as she paced through the throne room. She held up her hand for silence each time someone attempted to talk to her. Hamish could only watch as she remained lost in her thoughts. During late afternoon, she finally broke out of her semi-trance.

The Queen called a guard over, told him something quietly, and sent him on his way. After he departed, she resumed her pacing. Soon after that, though, she looked up from the floor, and seemed to notice for the first time the redhead watching her. She blinked, and waved him over.

"Mirana?" he asked, seeing as they were the only ones present in the throne room at the moment.

She sighed and rubbed her dark eyes in a very un-Queen-like manner. "How much did you see yesterday on the ship?" she asked.

"You mean the incident with… Alice?" he asked nervously.

"Yes, you were there before I arrived, and I need to know _exactly_ what happened."

Hamish was about to ask why, but decided against it after seeing the look on her face. Instead, he did as was requested, and relayed the events of the day before to the Queen. He told her every last detail he could remember, right down to the color of the dress Andrea was wearing, though Mirana's frown seemed to deepen ever so slightly when he mentioned it. "Tarrant would know more; he was there even before I," he finished. Mirana nodded, and soon the pair elapsed into another silence. She had fallen back into her lost-in-thought state, and Hamish only stood by her side awkwardly.

Suddenly – so suddenly, in fact, that the redhead nearly jumped in surprise at the sudden noise – she nodded and thanked him, before departing. Her voice held a note of finality that prevented him from following.

**

* * *

**

After several hours at the windmill and a failed tea party, Hatter insisted that they move the little group closer to the castle. After seeing the absolutely panicked expression on their friend's face when they tried to argue, both Mallymkun and Thackery agreed to move to the gardens outside Marmoreal. Neither had any idea what was going on with Tarrant, as he had told them nothing of the Alice Incident, and merely agreed out of concern for his wellbeing.

When they finally made it to Marmoreal with all the things needed for a proper tea party, however, things didn't seem to get any better with Tarrant. He attempted to put on a happy face for his companions, but it only came out forced and added to Mally's worry. Eventually, the trio gave up having a decent tea, and Thackery left for the kitchens of the castle. The Dormouse remained behind, however, and watched as Tarrant sighed and slumped in his chair.

"'Atter, wha's wron'?" she asked, her eyes full of concern as she looked up at him. She rested her tiny paws on his teacup, just as Tarrant averted his gaze, and instead focused on a twiddling with a scrap of cloth at his sleeve. "You can tell me anythin', you know?"

Tarrant paused, and was about to respond, when Mally's gaze flitted to something behind the Hatter, back to him, and then back again. Her eyes widened briefly, before she completely turned her body to face whatever was coming out of the castle. The Hatter watched her behavior curiously, before a thought struck his mind and he turned quickly. At first, he didn't see what had made Mally stop, but, as his gaze wandered about the gardens, he finally laid eyes on Andrea chasing Mia. No, it wasn't Alice, as he had hoped.

Apparently, both had come from the castle while Tarrant had been conversing with the Dormouse. As the two watched, the little redheaded girl took off sprinting away from Andrea, who rolled her eyes and followed. The brunette looked tired - but happy – and it made the Hatter almost smile to see the innocent joy with which Mia carried herself; as if she had no idea of everything that was happening around her.

"'o is tha'?" Mally asked, raising a tiny eyebrow as she watched the pair running.

"They are, ehm, guests at the castle, currently," Tarrant responded rather stiffly. His thoughts had taken an unwanted turn, as prompted by Mia's presence and terms of existence. Still, though, he could not figure out why it bothered him so.

"Oh…" she watched them for a few moments, appearing lost in thought. As they looked on, Andrea finally caught up to Mia and nearly tackled her. As they wrestled on the ground – the brunette apparently trying to get the young girl to do something she didn't want to – Mia gave a little high-pitched laugh of delight.

"Come now, ye silly thin', it's no' tha' bad!" Andrea laughed in her heavy accent, standing and slinging Mia over her shoulder.

"I won't! The water's so cold! I won't take a bath!" She complained back, though she was grinning the whole time.

"Yer such a mess, mae dear; I don' know 'ow yer mother's put up with ye all these years!" the brunette chuckled as Mia continued to struggle. The mention of the girl's mother nearly put Tarrant over the edge, and he found himself struggling to keep his emotions in check. Images of Alice afraid and broken on the floor of the cabin room kept invading his thoughts, and soon he was standing. The movement caught Andrea's eye, and she turned. Her eyes widened when she saw him, and she hastily bowed, still struggling to keep the little girl in check. "I'm so terribly sorreh, sir!" she exclaimed, "I didn't see ye there."

She quickly turned to go back inside, just as the Hatter advanced. "No, no, lass; I wish a word with ye," he called, barely winning the battle he held with his subconscious. Andrea slowly turned around, holding the now-calm Mia in her arms carefully.

"Yessir?" she asked, keeping her eyes down. Upon seeing the way she acted, he couldn't help but wonder what had happened aboard the ship to make Andrea – and all the others, for that matter – so obedient. He nearly shuddered at the thought.

Tarrant took a deep breath, calming himself, before he continued. "How is she?" he asked, knowing that both knew exactly who he was talking about.

Up until this point, Tarrant had forgotten that Mally was with him. That is, until she finally reached where he was and scampered up on his shoulder. "'Atter, wha's goin' on? 'O are you, and wha', and 'o are you talkin' abou'?" she asked, looking back and forth between the two. Andrea looked mildly surprised at something about the Dormouse, but she said nothing.

"Shush, Mally, dear." Hatter said, never taking his eyes off the brunette – who remained silent. "Do continue, madam," he prodded, smiling softly and nodding to show that it was okay.

"I've been instructed not tae say anythin'," she replied, not lifting her eyes. They stood there a moment, Hatter looking down at the Andrea clutching the little girl in front of him, when a thought suddenly popped into Tarrant's head. It was something that had been eating away at the back of his extremely frazzled mind for longer then he realized, and – when the time came – he didn't have time to stop and even remotely think about it when the words poured forth from his vocal chords.

"At least tell me where the lass's father is," he said quickly – desperately, almost – gesturing to Mia. This statement made Andrea almost look up, and Mia even stopped her struggling. Mallymkun, who had been watching the whole thing unfold from Hatter's shoulder, raised an eyebrow at him and began to look back and forth between the formerly enslaved woman and her best friend.

"I don't know," she replied, shaking her head slightly.

"Do ye at leas' know wha' he was like?" Tarrant asked in reply. He had no idea why all of this was bothering him – not in the least – but it hurt him deep inside. At the tone of his voice, the woman before him slowly raised her head, curiosity burning in her eyes.

"No, sir; I ne'er met 'im. Ne'er met this poor lass's mum, either." She gazed down at the redhead in her arms, and Mia turned her head slightly to peek back. Her statement, however, threw Tarrant for a loop.

"Pardon?"

"She was found, 'nd mae dear friend took 'er in. Started callin' 'er mum, she did, 'nd the girl didn't 'ave the 'eart tae tell 'er otherwise." She smiled softly - never lifting her gaze from the girl in her arms – and brushed a lock of orange hair from her face. Tarrant stood there, speechless and dumbfounded, staring at the pair. For some reason he couldn't figure out, this news made him feel unhealthily happy, and he resisted the urge to futterwacken right then and there. Mia turned her head to look back behind her 'aunt' once more.

If this girl was not Alice's real daughter… she had not given her heart to any man from the Otherworld. It was such an Alice thing to do, really – taking in a poor, helpless little child off the streets and giving her a home. So sweet and kind; so brave. "Hmm?" Apparently, Andrea had been saying something.

The brunette smiled and shook her head. Mally, however, had had enough. "Ahm sick an' tired of carryin' on li'e I know a wo'd ah what yer sayin'! 'Atter, tell mae what's goin' on this instant, or Ah'll–"

"Mummy!" The little mouse's rant was cut short by the happy exclamation from the little girl in Andrea's arms – who immediately started squirming - and everyone turned to see what was happening behind them. Hatter and Andrea, of course, already knew what was coming, but Tarrant didn't really know what to expect. Honestly, the last time he had seen the Champion, she was on a murdering rampage, and the time before that she had been a strong-willed, healthy woman. Andrea, in the process of turning, ended up setting down – nearly dropping, really – the little struggling girl. Mia, in return, took off sprinting toward the blonde woman standing at the doorway into the castle.

"Oh mae God…" Mally gasped, staring. "Is tha'…"

And it was.

Standing there, just now standing up with the little redhead in her arms and a smile on her face, was Alice, the Champion of Underland. She stood tall and strong, not a trace of the day before left in her stature. She grinned at her daughter, not noticing the others standing there. And for a second, Tarrant believed that things were going to be okay.

* * *

**AN: I'm so sorry that this has taken me so long, and that it's not very lengthy, and that my grammar's bad, and that the scene you all were waiting for wasn't in here. I'm just... a little frazzled right now, and things are getting crazy around my house. I promise that I'll have the next chapter up soon - really, I do. Oh, and the song that the quote at the beginning of Chapter 4 was from "Animal I Have Become" by Three Days Grace, and this one is from "Letters From the Sky" by Civil Twilight. :)**

**Please review! **

**AN (update): Yay! My beta, Audrey33, who I thought was at camp, was able to edit this chapter before she left! Thanks, bud! Hopefully this chapter has improved greatly with her help! Enjoy!**


	7. Chapter 6

"_Broken angel, you've got to learn to fly…_

_Get up, and earn your wings tonight…"_

**Chapter 6**

"Now, my dear, what trouble have you been causing now?" Alice asked the grinning girl in her arms.

"Nothing, mother," Mia giggled. "I've been good." Alice raised an eyebrow at her, but the little redhead only kept on smiling.

"Alrigh', will someone _please_ tell meh wha's goin' on?" Mallymkun huffed loudly from Tarrant's shoulder. Alice jumped slightly and clutched her daughter protectively, turning her head to fully face the others present. By the look on her face, it seemed that it was the first time she had noticed the others present. She sent a confused glare towards the little group, and blinked several times. As she did this, someone behind her placed a hand on her shoulder.

"It's alright, Alice," Hamish said gently, stepping outside. Apparently, he had been with her the whole time, but no one had seen him. Everyone had been too focused on the presumed-dead Champion. Tarrant felt a brief flash of negative emotion at the thought of Hamish getting to see Alice before him. "It's alright." The blonde blinked several more times and shook her head, before turning back to her daughter.

"Sorry…" she said quietly to all present, though she never lifted her eyes from Mia's.

"Don't worry, love," Andrea replied, smiling softly and stepping forward. "No one blames ye." Alice nodded and bit her lip, blinking a few more times. "Now, I don't believe the little devil 'ere 'as entirely 'onest with ye…" Andrea rolled her eyes in Mia's general direction, and the girl, in turn, buried her face in her mother's hair.

Mally, though, had finally had enough, and was beginning to become fed up with being ignored. "Ahm serious! If someone doesn't tell meh why the ought-tae-be-dead Not Alice is standin' 'ere, callin' the girl 'daughtah' an' actin' like there's somethin' wrong with 'er 'ead, Ah'll slice every one of ye from yer nose to yer naval!" She shouted in her squeaky voice, angrily swishing her hatpin sword through the air. There was a moment of stunned silence as all eyes fell upon the furious Dormouse. Then, suddenly, Mia was being shoved in Andrea's arms as Alice took off running toward the trees. It took only seconds for Tarrant to realize what had just happened, and in the time it took for Andrea to fumble for a better hold on the redheaded child and Hamish to figure out where Alice had gone, Tarrant had already set Mally on the grass and taken off after the fleeing blonde.

As he ran, he heard Hamish shout something behind him – the Englishman obviously having collected his bearings – which Tarrant could barely make out. He managed to catch the first half, before he broke through the trees and lost all notion of anything save finding Alice. "Alice!" he called after her as he ran, "Alice!" It was no use, however. Soon, he lost sight of her through the thicket, and his pace slowed from a frantic run to a walk in order to avoid crashing into anything as he searched.

"Looking for something…?" a somewhat annoying voice purred from above.

"I don' 'ave time fer this!" Tarrant growled, not stopping. Suddenly, a wisp of steam trailed in front of him. It soon materialized into an over-sized blue cat, but the Hatter simply pushed passed Chessur and continued on. He stormed on, mumbling to himself until he started to feel his demeanor darkening. He paused and shook his head to clear his jumbled mind; when he opened his eyes once more, he gasped and nearly fell back. He was staring right into two extremely large and bright teal eyes. "Chessur!" he growled, regaining composure. "I don' 'ave time fer ye! I must find Alice!"

"Alice, you say?" the blue feline replied, floating back slightly and smirking. "I hadn't heard she had returned."

"Ah, well, she was 'ere an' then she ran off. It's no' like ye didn't know she 'ad come back in the first place, though. Ye find yer way intah every little thin' that goes on 'ere!" his voice increased I volume as he spoke, until he was very nearly yelling by the end of his small rant. Chessur, however, seemed unfazed.

"Well," he purred, giving a long and drawn-out sigh. "It seems you don't want my help, then…" he began to float backwards and disappear. It took Tarrant's mind a moment to register what he was saying, and then he frantically looked around for the cat.

"Wha'? Get back 'ere, ye guddler scruffing mangy thing! Tell me where she is!" he yelled, at the sky, though there was no sign of Chessur anywhere. After a moment of silence without any response, he threw his arms down in frustration and continued on his way. It seemed that he was going to have to keep looking the old-fashioned way.

"You're going the wrong direction…" a voice purred in his ear, but when he turned, there was no one there. Tarrant grinned, though, and began walking in the opposite direction.

"Thank ye," he said to the empty forest, before picking his pace up once again.

**

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**

"Oh my…" Hamish said, pacing. "They should be back by now…"

"Relax," Mirana replied, placing a hand on his shoulder to stop him. "Tarrant _will _find her. She can't have gone far, and Tarrant will do everything in his power to keep her safe."

After Alice and the Hatter had taken off, those left standing outside had taken a moment of stunned silence. Hamish had then remembered something extremely important that he had learned during his time with the blonde that morning. In a moment of desperation, he had yelled part of it towards the retreating madman, though he doubted he heard him. After taking another moment to process what had happened, the Englishman had immediately run to inform the Queen of what had happened, leaving Mally with Andrea and Mia. He had hoped that some explaining would take place between the two, but he had no idea what they had exchanged by the time he returned with Mirana in tow.

Currently, the five were outside the castle exit, where they had the best view of the forest edge. "I know, I know; I trust him. It's just…" Hamish paused and looked into Mirana's eyes. "I'm worried for not only her, but him as well. You saw how she acted with you, and – if you don't mind my saying so – you're a little easier to take in than someone like him." He sighed and resumed his pacing.

"I don't know she will react when Alice sees the Hatter, nor do I know how Tarrant will react when he finally comes in contact with our Champion. All I know is that the last time she was here, she and Tarrant shared a special bond that I don't believe can be broken by something such as… such as what has happened to our friend," the Queen responded, grabbing the redhead's shoulders firmly in order to stop his movements once more. "Please, trust me."

"I do trust you, Mirana," he said in return. "You've shown me nothing but kindness since I arrived, and, in turn, I was nothing short of mean-spirited when I first fell into this wondrous land." He took her hands in his. "This place has made me a different person, and for that I am forever grateful." The heartfelt speech was slightly out of place with the topic that they had just been discussing, but, as Hamish gazed at the Queen's face, he realized something. Something within him had changed the moment he had opened his eyes in the white room and set his gaze upon Mirana. He understood, right then and there, after watching the frantic Hatter take off after Alice instead of he, that he no longer felt the same towards the adventurous blonde as he had when Hamish had been Above.

Suddenly, someone cleared his or her throat rather loudly. Both jumped and turned towards the source of the sound, blushing furiously. Andrea and Mia had moved and were now sitting on the grass underfoot, and Mallymkun was perched on the little girl's head. Apparently, it was the Dormouse who had cleared her throat, and – at the looks on both Mirana and Hamish's faces – Mia began giggling, causing both to blush even deeper. There was an awkward pause, during which Andrea kept shooting pointed glances between Mirana and Hamish. The redhead nearly passed out when he realized that both he and the Queen were still grasping each other's hands, and immediately dropped them.

"Uhm, w-well," the Queen stuttered, obviously flustered by their fau-pát. She was, however, at a loss of what to say next, and – to her misfortune – all eyes were now on her. Sensing her unease, Andrea quickly broke the hanging tension in the air with the one thought that should have been on everyone's mind- but wasn't, thanks to the rather unfortunate subject change.

"Shouldn't Alice an' Tarrant 'ave returned bai now?"

**

* * *

**

After several minutes of fruitless wandering, the Hatter felt as if he was about to turn back around once more and give up his search. He felt that way, but would never actually do that; he would never abandon Alice after all she meant to Underland – saving them from the Red Queen, and such. After all she meant to _him_, he wasn't going to abandon her… Did he just think that? Tarrant briefly shook his head to clear it, pausing in his steps as he did so.

In this brief moment of quiet, he realized just how loud his steps had been on the crunching, dried ground of the Tulgey Wood. As each footfall had crumbled and torn another shriveled leaf, the sound seemed to resonate throughout the trees and plants, creating the illusion of more echoes than were actually present. Creating more sounds… as he listened, Tarrant noticed just _how_ quiet the forest was. Usually, there was a gentle whistle of the breeze through the overhead canopy, accompanied by the whispered giggles of the gossiping flowers, chirps and clicks from the dragonflies, horseflies, bread-and-butterflies that normally buzzed about the air, the occasional snippet of conversation from the creatures residing in the foliage. It was… silent. Unusually, confusingly, maddeningly, almost frighteningly silent. As he stood there, frozen, Tarrant listened for a moment. Why was it so quiet…?

Then he heard it.

It was almost like a sniffle, but not quite. Almost like a sneeze, but not really. Almost like… (It was an 'S' word, he knew it… sneer, song, serenade, snort, screech, sob… _sob_). A sound almost like a sob. He tilted his head to the side slightly, trying to pinpoint the sound, and listened intently. There it was again - it was rather pitiful, really – and, without thinking, the Hatter began walking toward the sound with his thundering steps. Thankfully, it appeared to be close, so he was able to travel to it without stopping once more. The action would probably startle whatever poor creature was making the sound in the first place, if they were not already frightened by his far-from-noiseless motions. Still halfway lost in his curious thoughts, he broke through the trees separating him from the source of the sound.

And he stopped.

Apparently, the cat had led his to his destination without his knowing it. There, right before him, sitting curled in a tight ball against an old, sagging tree was Alice. And Alice was sobbing. Tarrant felt his heart twist and turn in pain as he listened to the terribly pitiful sound emitting from the Champion. Just by looking at the distraught and frightened woman before him, he could tell that her muchness was not only lacking, but it seemed to have disappeared altogether. Thankfully, Alice hadn't noticed him yet, as she was too wrapped up in her won worries.

The Hatter stepped out into the clearing a tad more, happy that he had found her, but sad that she had been found in this state. "…Alice…?" he asked quietly and hesitantly. At the sudden noise, the woman jumped and stared at the madman with wide, watery eyes. She gave him a look of pure terror, and shrunk back further against the tree, much as she had in the cabin of the ship. Just thinking about that incident made Tarrant's blood boil, but he knew he had to maintain some level of sanity at the moment if he was going to help his dear Alice. (Oh, there were those thoughts again; _his Alice_, indeed.)

"H-how do you know my n-name?" she asked shakily, still giving him that frightened-pup look that made him want to cry himself. Her question, however, caught him off guard. His spirits drooped, and he mentally scolded himself for not seeing this coming. Of course she didn't remember him; he had said she wouldn't, but she had insisted. Maybe he had hoped all along that she would be right.

"We've known each other for a long while," Tarrant replied, trying to keep his voice calm and light. He felt his lisp when he spoke, and hoped that he would somehow be able to trigger a memory. "I'm the Hatter." He took another step closer towards her, and he was pleased to see that she no longer tried to claw up into the tree, though she continued to stare him down with those wide hazel eyes. Eventually, he was able to slowly kneel down in front of her. He felt as though she were a skittish animal that would take of running at any sudden movement.

Alice buried her face in her knees, and her golden hair swayed about in the breeze created by her motion. Tarrant swallowed hard… such pretty hair… he longed to reach out and touch it, just to see if it – she – was real. "I'm sorry," she mumbled meekly. "You look familiar… everything has just been so jumbled lately…" So she _did _remember him! He felt like nearly jumping for joy, but he knew that it would be completely inappropriate for the moment.

Instead, he settled on a simple question that popped into his own jumped mind. "What do you remember about me? It's been a while since I've seen you last, so I don't remember much about you, either." He smiled softly as she lifted her head tentatively. It had been a lie; when Alice had been here last, he had tried to memorize every little thing he could about her so he _wouldn't_ forget. It had had the desired effect, though, and she gave him a look that now held more curiosity than anything else. "We could… get reacquainted with one another?" He eased himself into a sitting position before her, and crossed his legs. "…Only if you like, of course."

"No, no, I would like to; I mean, yes I would like to and no I would not like to not… I mean I do not want to not remember you," she blinked and shook her head wildly as her breathing became rapid. "I just wish it would stop!" she buried her head in her knees once more and curled up again, as Tarrant sat there watching her worriedly. She seemed almost… mad. He wondered vaguely if this was what he looked like when he was having a spell, before he was brought back to the present by that sound. Alice had begun crying again. Unsure of what to do, the Hatter did the only thing that came to mind to comfort the distraught woman; he wrapped his arms around her.

She stiffened under his touch and tried to scoot away, but he held firm. After a few moments of listening to her strangled cries from his arms, he began to wonder whether or not he had done the right thing. Just as he was about to let go, though, she slowly began to relax in his embrace. Her sobs quieted slightly, and he hesitantly began stroking her hair with his free hand. Soon, she had quieted altogether, and he wondered if she had fallen asleep. He continued his motions, however, finding that he couldn't stop.

"I'm sorry," she whispered softly – so quietly, in fact, that Tarrant questioned whether or not he had actually heard it.

"Whatever for?" he whispered back, neither moving from their positions as he continued to caress her hair.

"I-I think I remember you. I mean, I-I remember a man with orange hair…" she replied, still whispering. "We were close, and we knew each other very well. I remember that this man had… feelings for me, and that I returned them. But I left him, because it didn't seem right at the time." Tarrant felt his heart leap to this throat. What feeling was she talking about? He always experienced so many when he was around her… "I just- whenever I see the face, it blurs away from me!" she was beginning to choke up again. "Why is everything so crowded in my head? Why can't I think straight? Why does everything hurt so much?" her voice was beginning to rise, and, before Tarrant knew it, he was being pushed away as she ferociously clutched her head in her hands. "Why? Why? Why?" she chanted, as her questions became yells.

"Alice!" he cried, partially out of worry and partially out or fright. He had never seen her act like this before, and he was scared for her. It angered him to think about what could have caused this. What could have resulted in the great White Champion to lose not only her muchness, but her sanity as well. He felt a wave of emotion wash over him, and suddenly he wanted to wrap his fingers around the neck of whoever had done this to Alice. To squeeze every last drop of life out of them, until they were nothing more than a juiceless peel whose fruit had long since been eaten. He shook his head slightly to clear his thoughts, somewhat. It would do no good to have _two_ people lost in madness this far out away from Marmoreal. There was no telling what could happen. "Alice!" he tried again, louder and firmer this time.

Her head jolted up from where she was, her eyes wide and holding the look they had had when he had first arrived. Fear, sadness, guilt, and remorse. "Alice, come here," he stood and reached a hand out to her. The blonde stared at it, unsure, and shrunk back against the tree. "I won't hurt you, I promise. We're going to go back," Tarrant had to refrain from saying _home_, for he had no idea how long – really – Alice would be staying, "to Marmoreal." Still, she only gazed up at him and made to move to respond. "Mia is waiting for you, and we'll be able to make your head feel better." The second part was a lie; he really had no idea what could be done. If she had gone as mad as he, there was no cure. At the mention of her daughter, though, Alice's face dawned with recognition, and she slowly rose. She did so without the aid of his outstretched hand, but, just as Tarrant was about to retract it (he was rather disappointed that she hadn't taken it), she grasped it in her own.

As they made their way back towards the castle, the Hatter replayed what had just happened over in his mind. So she _did_ remember him! The vague description didn't seem to bother him, though, nor the fact that everything she had said also applied to… The madman nearly stopped dead in his tracks as a realization hit him. It wasn't he whom Alice had been remembering. It was Hamish.

_Damn._

_

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_

**AN: Ooh! So many questions answered, yet so many more posed! What's wrong with Alice? What did Hamish yell out to Tarrant? When will the Hatter realize his feelings for her? When will my iTunes stop crashing? All cliffhangers that will be answered as the story continues!**

**A special thanks to Audrey33, my glorious Beta, for not only reviewing this chapter, but giving me the extra push I needed to get it done. Thanks, bud!**

**Please review! I had lots of fun writing this chapter, and I want to hear your feedback! Thank you!**


	8. Chapter 7

"_Give me something more to keep on breathing for_

_Please give me something to believe"_

**Chapter 7**

When Tarrant and Alice finally stepped back through the trees, the group waiting for them at the castle door breathed a collective sigh of relief. That is, until they noticed that something was amiss. While Alice was smiling softly despite her mussed hair, dirtied dress, and red-rimmed eyes, the Hatter's forehead was creased in thought. His colors were faded slightly, and his eyes bordered on a yellow as opposed to their normal lime color. Before anyone could ask, though, Mia was racing to her mother's open arms, Mally clutching to the girl's hair for dear life. "Mummy!" The little redhead cried happily. The Hatter momentarily forgot his somber mood at the heartwarming sight – that is, until he spotted Hamish standing by Mirana. He sent a quick, cold glare toward the oblivious Englishman, before turning back to Alice and her daughter.

"I must ask your forgiveness, ladies, but I really must be going. There's much work to be done that won't do itself, you know." Tarrant tried to keep his voice light and sane - barely succeeding – and he gave a quick bow in Mirana's general direction before hurrying back to the castle door. The White Queen raised an eyebrow at the Hatter's unusual behavior, but said nothing as he made his departure.

Then something happened that no one expected, nor ever thought would happen. "Ah'm sorry, Alice," came the quiet squeak from atop Mia's head. Yes, the Dormouse had not only apologized, but she had apologized _sincerely_. To _Alice_. Even Tarrant faltered in his steps, before shaking his head and continuing on. Alice, on the other hand, blinked a little, before smiling nervously.

"It's not your fault," she replied, a calm and somewhat sheepish expression on her face. "I should be the one apologizing for taking off like that."

"Ah thin' we've established tha' i's no one's faul', dear," Andrea said, standing and making her way over to the Champion and her daughter. "Now, look a' yerself? Wha' did ye do; roll in tae mud? Le's go get ye cleaned up." After shooing Mally off Mia's head, she wrapped her arms around Alice's shoulders, and – with a nod toward Mirana – began to lead her to the door, as well.

"One moment, Andrea," Mirana stepped forward this time, a smile on her face as she held out her hand. "It has been such a long time, and I would love another chance to become more reacquainted with our dear Champion. Would you mind if I tagged along?" The brunette blinked at the royal in shock, before glancing at Alice. "We wou'd be honored, yer majesty." And with that, the four ladies departed, leaving poor Hamish to stand awkwardly in the garden alone.

**

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**

_Orange._

No, no; orange clashed too much with the green.

_Red._

No, no; definitely anything but _that_ bloody color.

_Purple._

No, no; that made it look like something _he_ would wear.

_Blue_.

Yes, blue would do quite nicely! It _was_ such a lovely color, after all; it seemed to go with everything, and it was always in style—Tarrant's frantic eyes softened as he brought the bolt of fabric closer. _And it was such an _Alice_ color. _He shook his head; there would be none of that! He was making a hat for Lady Rallison, per her order, and not for his Alice. (Lord, he _had_ to stop thinking like that!) With a growl, he threw the strip of fabric over his shoulder and reached for the white – an ever-popular color in the White Court that went just smashing with the green trim he had already put in place.

Suddenly, there was a tug on his coat, and when he looked down into the frantic green eyes of Alice's daughter, he nearly jumped out of his skin. "Mr. Hatter! Mr. Hatter!" she cried, pulling on his coat again. He glanced over toward the door of his workshop, wondering how in the world she had gotten in… and found it standing wide open. He mentally cursed himself for forgetting to close it in his haste. Another tug, however, brought him back to the situation at hand.

"Whatever is the matter, my dear?" he asked, lifting the tiny girl under the shoulders and placing her in front of him on a relatively-clear spot on his work table, her feet dangling over the edge.

"We were playing and I counted and mummy went and I opened my eyes and I looked and I looked and I looked and I couldn't find her and Lady Mirana couldn't find her and—"

"Slow down, dear!" Tarrant chuckled, his slow brain fumbling to catch up with the slurred and jumbled sentences spilling from the little girl's mouth. Her eyes were wide and her cheeks flushed, and as she struggled to catch her breath, the Hatter guessed she had run all the way here. "Now, tell me what happened and what I can do to help you, love." He grinned at her, not even realizing his term of endearment. Had he been conscious of it, though, he most likely would have written up to the fact that the little redhead was just too darn loveable _not_ to make her way into someone's heart after just a day… that would have been _his_ excuse, anyway.

After another gasp of air, she began again; this time only slightly slower, however. "Lady Mirana and Mummy and me were playing hide-and-go-seek in the garden, and it was my turn to be it, so I counted – mummy taught me to count, you know. I can make it all the way up to ten! …Or is it eleven? – and when I opened my eyes I saw Lady Mirana hiding behind one of the trees – she's a terrible hider. Mummy always found her first when she was it, too. She a very good seeker, though. She found mummy really fast when it was her turn! – so I tagged her and we went to find mummy but we looked everywhere and we can't find her and you found her last time so I need your help to find where mummy's hidden!" she gasped for air again, as she had said the last part all in one breath. The Hatter had to suppress a chuckle; only someone related to (because after having grown up with someone, wouldn't that make you related, even if not by blood?) Alice would get this worked up about a game. Or him; he would probably be reacting the same way.

"Well, my dear, that does seemed to be quite a predicament. You were playing in the gardens, you say?" Mia nodded as he lifted her off his worktable and set her on the floor, taking her hand as he did so. "Let's go find Alice, the—"

Suddenly, a very winded and flushed Mirana appeared in his workroom door, and the Hatter barely contained a mad giggle at how very _un-royal_ she looked at the moment. "Oh, she found you? I was hoping to catch her before she made it this-" she gasped for air "-far."

"Why ever would you feel the need to stop her, my dear Queen? I do love a good game, especially one that seems to be this challenging." He grinned at her, and she only rolled her eyes in return. "Come now let's go find Alice." With that, he led Mia by the hand from the room, and the three started down the hall. Tarrant blinked at the sun outside the windows, which was now quite low in the sky. _Slurvish_, that Time fellow was, speeding along while he was wrapped up in his work. Before he could think anything else, though, he shook his head to clear his mind. No use getting all bent out of shape about something that couldn't be helped. The Hatter felt a tug on his arm, and looked down to see that Mia had quickened her pace from a walk to a skip, and was happily prancing along. He smiled down at her, and when she noticed him watching her, the little redhead grinned back. _So very much like a little Alice_. "Mirana, I never knew you were one to get yourself dirty." Tarrant turned his attention to the Queen walking on the other side of the little girl, whose normally-immaculate dress was slightly browned on the bottom from playing in the mud.

"Some sacrifices must be made for the sake of a good time, eh?" she responded, eyeing the blissful girl between them. There was a silence as they continued through the halls, when Tarrant noticed something.

"Where is Miss Andrea? I don't believe she was mentioned playing with you both, and I've yet to see either Mia or Alice without her." He raised an eyebrow at the Queen, who only shrugged.

"The poor woman deserved some rest after watching over our Champion and her daughter for the last year, so I convinced her back into her rooms for some relaxation."

"How very kind of you, your majesty." He smiled at her as the small group exited the castle and found themselves back in the gardens once more. As soon as their feet hit the grass, Mia released his hand and began excitedly bouncing up and down, taking Mirana's hand instead.

"Lady Mirana and me will go this way-" she frantically pointed to their right, down towards the main path into Marmoreal "-and you can go that way, Mr. Hatter." She turned and pointed to the left quickly, before tugging the Queen away. Her little high-pitched voice called out, "The first one who finds mummy gets to be it!" as they retreated, and soon Tarrant lost sight of them around the corner. With a chuckle, he adjusted his hat and proceeded in his assigned direction, opting to walk along the edge of the forest.

"If I were an _Alice_, where would I hide myself…?" he asked no one in particular as he moseyed under the evening sunshine. The answer to that particular question, however, was something he couldn't come up with. After all his mental boasting that he knew the Champion better than anyone, he wasn't so sure if that was really true anymore. His mind flashed images both of the blonde in the ship and the forest, and he felt his temper rise. If he _ever _found out who had made her that way… a little detached part of his scrambled brain figured that this was probably the reason that Mirana hadn't told him where that captain and his deckhand were being kept. They were the two most likely suspects, after seeing the way one treated the slaves and how Alice had tried to kill the other.

Alice, trying to voluntarily _kill_ someone. The same Alice who had made it very clear during her second visit that she "did _not_ slay". No, he told himself. She wasn't the same Alice anymore. Her muchness was buried deep – whether it was even still there at all.

The Hatter was sharply broken out of his thoughts by a sound in the trees above his head, and he paused. When there was no further sound, he started to continue on. Before he could get even two feet, however, it came again. Assured that he wasn't hearing things (more than normal, anyway), the madman retraced his steps back under a certain tree and looked up. Sure enough, there sat Underland's Champion in the uppermost canopy, cradling her injured hand (the one that she had leaned on the blade back on the ship) and scowling at the branch next to her.

"Aha! I've found you!" Tarrant exclaimed, grinning up at her. The blonde jumped slightly, winced, and turned her scowl down to him.

The redhead marveled how normal she sounded when she spoke next. "I had the feeling that Mia had sent you, but I wasn't sure." With a sigh, she reached out with her un-bandaged hand to the trunk of the tree and swung her legs over the branch, landing nimbly on her feet in front of the Hatter. As she stood straight, however, he noticed that the gauze around her left hand was stained with new blood. She traced his gaze, and quickly put her hands behind her back in a badly covered attempt to appear casual.

"Alice, my dear, what happened to your hand?" he asked, his eyes briefly flashing orange at the thought of the Champion hurt even more.

"Nothing."

"It's obviously not nothing; if it was, then it wouldn't be something." He replied, reaching behind her and gently taking her hand in his to examine it further.

"Climbing a tree is hard _enough _in a skirt with two working hands." Came her cryptic reply, and only a man as skilled at riddles and puzzles as Tarrant would be able to formulate a reasonable explanation from that random thought. Luckily, he _was_ Tarrant.

"Ah, you reopened your cut tryin' tae get up there, did ye now?" he couldn't help but slip a little into his brogue as Alice winced in pain when he tried to readjust the wrappings. "Wae shoul' ge' Mirana tae look a' this 'fore it ge's any worse, eh love?" there it was again, that little word slipping out without his awareness. The Champion only nodded as he released her hand. There was an awkward pause between the two as Tarrant calmed down, and Alice thankfully content to wait. Whatever was amiss in her mind earlier seemed to have temporarily righted itself, and the Hatter smiled as her attention was caught by a rocking-horsefly as it buzzed overhead. Still very much Alice, just… different. "Well, I'm sure they're wondering if I've had any luck on my mission, so we really should be getting back." He offered her his arm – which she accepted – and they began back the way Tarrant had come.

"Have you?" she asked as they walked.

"Have I what?"

"Have you had any luck on your mission?" there was a mischievous twinkle in her eyes when she asked that made the Hatter suspicious, but he played along anyway.

"I'm quite sure I have; I found you, didn't I?"

"Oh, yes, I suppose you did…" she seemed to think for a minute, before grinning. "You know what this means, yes?"

Tarrant blinked. "I have your daughter's everlasting gratitude…?"

Alice let out a giggle (a very cute giggle, Tarrant decided), "Well, maybe; but you're _it_ now. You're going to have to do it all over again once we get back." Seeing how confused her companion was, the blonde rolled her eyes and sighed. "Those _are_ the rules of the game, after all. Or at least Mia's rules. Didn't you hear her?"

"Oh. _Oh_. Yes, of course." The madman backtracked, giggling nervously. "I was merely testing to see if you were paying attention, that's all." She grinned at his horrible excuse, and laughed outright.

"Oh, yes, _of course_. And did I pass?"

"Did you pass what?"

At this, she gave an exasperated groan and playfully smacked his arm. "_Really, _Hatter!"

"Oh, did you pass the test?"

"_Yes_!" she laughed again.

"I believe so," he replied, beginning to chuckle himself at the utter absurdity of their conversation.

"You're hopeless." Alice sighed and shook her head – though she was still grinning – before she winced.

"Mirana will have something for your hand, love-" _Damn_ that word, always slipping out! "-so we might have to postpone the next round for another time." As soon as he said that, a little redheaded girl came bounding into view, closely followed by a laughing Queen.

"You found her!" Mia squealed as soon as she spotted the two, and she ran to hug her mother.

"Technically, I gave my hiding spot away," Alice replied with a smirk.

"No! I found you fai—mmph!" Tarrant's protest was cut off as he was sharply elbowed in the side. Alice showed no indication of what had just happened save for the devilish smirk on her face as she hugged her daughter and the Hatter rubbed the sore spot on his person. He glared at her, and she only stuck her tongue out at him in return. Mirana held back a chuckle at their antics, seeing what neither saw (one being too innocent to notice and the other being too stubborn to see).

"So now Mr. Hatter gets to count, and we'll all hide, right mummy?" the little girl excitedly asked, taking her mother's – unfortunately – left hand. Alice cringed in pain and the child's strong grip as she began shaking it up and down in excitement.

"Not just yet, my dear," Tarrant replied for her, knowing that the Champion was likely not to mention her wound. "Lady Mirana is going to have to have a look at your mother's hand first, and _then_ we'll play." He only smiled innocently as the blonde scowled at him.

"What happened to your hand, Alice?" the Queen asked, stepping forward. The mother gently pried a confused Mia's fingers from her left palm, revealing the blood-stained gauze underneath.

"Did I do that?" the little redhead asked worriedly, her large green eyes beginning to tear up.

"No, love; mummy just wasn't careful in picking her hiding place." Alice assured her, wincing once more as Mirana examined the cut carefully, tut-tut-ing as she did so.

"Mummy!" Mia scolded, "Wait until Aunt Andrea hears!" Tarrant couldn't help but grin at how adorably superior the little girl looked; much as Alice had on her first visit to Wonderland, when she had been about the same age.

The Champion, on the other hand, looked less than pleased at the prospect of her friend finding out. "She'll never let me hear the end of it," she grumbled as Mirana began leading her away – likely to her potions room.

"Tarrant!" The Queen called over her shoulder as Mia began skipping after the two ladies. "Would you mind watching Mia until we return? It'll likely only be a few minutes."

The little girl stopped and turned to face the Hatter as he called back, "Not at all, your majesty!" Mia grinned, and skipped back over to him.

"We're going to have so much fun until mummy and Lady Mirana get back, Mr. Hatter! You and me, we're going to have the best fun together!" And with the devilish smile just _screaming_ trouble that she was giving him, the madman knew that there would be great fun, indeed.

* * *

**AN: I'm so sorry that it took me so long to get this chapter up! I never intended to have you guys wait this much... but life got in the way. It was a sweet chapter, though - something I've never found myself good at writing - and I think it turned out fairly okay, all things considered. On another note, most of the words that I use (the name of the ship, the captain... and that bird from my OneShot "This Time No, Let Love Grow") are Gaelic. If anyone can figure out what some mean, they'll get a virtual cookie. Yay for non-existant cookies! ^_^**

**Anyways, thanks for reading. Please review! They're much appreciated. **


	9. Chapter 8

"_The threat is real,_

_When his sight goes red again._

_Seeing red again."_

**Chapter 8**

"_Stayne_!" A shrill voice screeched, causing several birds that had been resting in the overhead trees to scatter.

"Yes, my _Queen_?" the named man hissed through clenched teeth, telling himself for what felt like the hundredth time that morning that _no_, he couldn't kill her yet; not until his plan was fulfilled. Then, and only then, could he wrap his gloved fingers around the horrid woman's neck and _squeeze_ until there was no breath left in her disproportionate body. Oh, how he longed to watch her face turn another color than the angry red that so often covered it. Blue… or purple, maybe. Both rather delightful colors once the meaning of them on a person's skin was considered.

"How much longe'w do we have to wait? I'm getting ti'wed of all this hiding out!" Iracebeth whined, looking for all the world like a spoiled little child as she stomped her foot in frustration. The little sleeping boy next to her stirred, but did not wake.

"As soon as we receive word from my brother as planned – which should be any day now, my liege – we shall make our move." He responded. It had been two long, painful years in banishment together, during which the Red Knave had been able to concoct a plan that would ensure both his escape from the Outlands and his instatement on the throne of Underland. The greasy-haired man gave a feral grin as he thought of the future that lay ahead for this wretched world.

Sometime in the early days of their punishment, the mangled pair had stumbled across a small, foreign town. They had called it 'foreign', simply because it had managed to stay tucked away in the beach-lined forest far to the South of both Salezun Grum and Marmoreal. It was free from the influence of either Queen, and it was there that they had discovered the secret trading that went on right under Mirana's nose. Apparently, there was still connection between the mainland of Underland and its surrounding islands, though it was strictly an underground, black-market operation. Most of it, that is. As Iracebeth and Ilosovic stumbled through the small streets, they had been awed at the sights that surrounded them. So awed, in fact, that the bulbous-headed monarch managed to walk right into the only civilian on the sidewalks at that time of night.

"Watch where you're going!" She had complained rather loudly, swinging her scepter at the figure in the dark.

The man, however, had only tipped his hat and given an apologetic, "'scuse me, miss," before moving on, head down. The Knave, however, would have recognized the voice anywhere.

"Dunmharu Stayne," he had laughed coldly, causing the man to stop dead in his tracks. "It has been _such_ a long time." Ilosovic had taken a step forward (inadvertently dragging the Red Queen with him, as they were still chained together), and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Ah," Dunmharu's voice had come out somewhat strained, "How nice to see you again, brother." The statement, however, clearly meant otherwise. The Knave had chosen to ignore that, and continued.

"How fortunate it is that we've found each other in my desperate time of need. Now, tell me, where are you headed this time of night?" With another step forward, the unnaturally tall man had placed an arm around his brother's shoulders, discreetly making escape impossible. The brothers in youth, you see, had been complete opposites, much like the royal sisters. While Ilosovic had grown in sadistic and greedy ways (much like his father), Dunmharu – despite his name – had leaned towards their mother's side; not quite gentle, but more passive. The younger was content to live out his life on the neutral side, work an honest job, and come home every night to his family.

"To the docks," had been the reply, though the Knave could sense the lie.

"Now, now, Dun-Dun, you know better than to stretch the truth. Mother taught you better than that!" the elder had laughed somewhat manically, tightening his grip on the other man to the point where he winced at the pressure. When he had received no further explanation, however, he simply grinned. "Take us to your home then, and we'll discuss things further once we're—"

"Tell me what is going on this instant!" the Red Queen had finally yelled (miraculously not waking anyone up), as she had apparently been asking the same question all throughout the conversation between siblings.

"My dear brother, here, has agreed to shelter us for the night… and any other services we might require." He had hissed, smiling. "Lead the way, Dun-Dun," with a flourish of his hand, the Knave had roughly started the man forward again, and they were off.

After walking for several minutes in strained silence – Iracebeth, for once, sensed that it was _not_ the time to be talking – they had finally stopped in front of one of the small townhouses that lined the streets. Dunmharu had unlocked the door carefully, and his brother noted with no small amount of glee that his hand was shaking as he had inserted the key. Oh, how he had missed making people _fear._ The moment the entrance to the small home was opened, a voice had called out, "Love, is that ye?" in a strong Outlandish accent. Suddenly, a young woman appeared at the end of the hall, "Ah got worried when ye di—" she had stopped midsentence when she saw Ilosovic's arm around his brother.

"Ah, and this must be the Mrs.; pleasure to meet you, my dear," the greasy man had grinned, his voice dripping with a sweetness that could only be described as deadly.

"Love, what's going on?" the woman had asked worriedly, backing up when Stayne had taken another step forward.

"Put little Johnstone to bed, dear, and you go upstairs with him." Had been her husband's response, a tremor evident in his voice no matter how hard he tried to cover it up. "I'll be there in a minute." The woman only nodded, and retreated back into the next room.

"You've made quite a life for yourself here, brother," Stayne had cooed. "Now, is there someplace we could talk?" Another feral smile had crossed his lips as the frightened man led them into the kitchen.

"Have a seat," he had gestured toward the little table in the center of the room. There were three old, wooden chairs around it, and the Queen had happily obliged by taking a seat in one.

"Whe'w aw we, Stayne?" she had asked as the Knave took a place beside her, still bound by the chains that kept them together. Her question, however, had been ignored.

"Would you like some tea, brother? Or you?" he addressed both seated at the little table.

"Yes, that would be lovel—" Iracebeth had started to say, but the Knave cut her off.

"Business before pleasure, Dun-Dun; you know that." He shook his head, chastising, but the younger had continued to heat the kettle anyway. "Now, first things first," he had rattled the chains that bound he and the former Queen together, indicating that he wished to be freed. There had been a pause as Dunmharu thought of some way out of the whole ordeal. This silence, however, had made it easier for the trio to hear someone descend the stairs. Soon, the Knave's sister-in-law had appeared in the kitchen doorway.

"Mari, I thought I asked you to stay upstairs," her husband had hissed worriedly.

"Nonsense, love; if yer goin' tae have guests over, it's only right that the lady of the house be present." She had smiled at the two seated at the table - though the gesture was a bit forced – and made her was over to the stove. "Let mae get that fer ye, while ye discuss whatever was so urgent that ye had tae come home so late fer." This had left Dunmharu no choice but to take the remaining empty chair, and he had sighed as he sat down.

"Now, where were we…?" Stayne had prompted, rattling his chains again.

"If I agree to release you, will you swear to leave and never return?" the brother had replied after another pause.

"Indeed; we shall depart, and you will never hear from us again." Stayne promised, grinning. "After, of course, some lodgings for the night and a good meal." There had been another pause, and the kettle squealed.

"Fair enough, brother," the younger had replied, resigned. "Come with me." The three had made their way back outside, then down around to the back of the small house where there was a small yard and a little stable that held one horse and three pigs. There was also a small chicken coop, but the animals inside had long since turned in for the night. They had made their way over to the stable, and the younger brother had entered. After searching the hay-covered floor, he had finally found what he was looking for, and lifted a small wooden panel in the floor. Out of it, he had produced a metal box.

"A keepsake container of stolen goods? You're getting more like Father every day, brother." Stayne had teased as Dunmharu retrieved a small key from the box. Using it, he had unlocked the shackles that bound their wrists.

"Whe'we did you get a key?" Iracebeth had asked as she rubbed her sore and chaffed wrists.

"Pilfered it off a guard during an esc—er, _rescue_ mission." He had shrugged. "I didn't think it would work. Now, you'll be off first thing before dawn, correct?" the trio had begun their walk back to the house, and they made their way straight to the kitchen as soon as they entered.

"That's what we agreed, brother, and I never go back on my word." Stayne had replied as they sat back down at the table. Mari had placed a cup of tea before each of them without a word, before going back to cleaning several pots.

"You'll sleep in the foyer room, then. Mari will prepare your food for your travels, and you'll be on your way." Had come the response. Another nod from Stayne had confirmed it, and they had sat in silence and sipped their tea.

"This is delightful," Iracebeth had complimented after a few moments, and Mari had only smiled slightly in response, her eyes wide and worried.

The next morning, however, had not gone according to Dunmharu's plan. When Ilosovic was involved, though, nothing ever really seemed to go the right way. He should have expected as much, but, alas, he had – for once – trusted his brother. When he had woken just before dawn, intending to retrieve the bundles of food that his wife had prepared the night before and send his brother and the Bloody Big Head on their way, he had noticed immediately that something was wrong. The man of the house had brought his son to sleep in the same room as he and his wife, just as a precaution, and had intended to stay awake the whole night, keeping watch. That was his first worry: waking up. That meant that he had fallen asleep in the first place, allowing an opportunity for something to happen. His second worry: his wife was not lying beside him.

Frantically, the young man had shot out of bed, noting with some measure of relief that little Johnstone was still curled up on the padded chair along the wall. Where, though, was Mari? As quietly as he could do so without waking his child, he had crept from the room, heart racing. The moment he hit the bottom of the stairs, he had broken into a run, skidding to a halt when he entered the foyer. There, sitting on the sofa, had been the Red Knave, grinning insanely as he stroked a gagged Mari's hair. Iracebeth had looked on jealously, but it had been explained earlier that this was all part of some plan that had been formed in the night, and that she simply must go along with it.

"What are you doing, Ilosovic? We had a deal!" Dunmharu had cried frantically, taking a step forward to free his wife. As he moved, though, his brother had produced a blade seemingly from nowhere, and held it up to her throat.

Ignoring the question, Stayne had simply proceeded to explain how things were going to go from there on out. "You're going to listen, brother, and listen well, because the life of your pretty little woman here depends on it. I've learned in the last hour that people here don't know who you really are. You go by a different name, and work on a trading ship that goes between the islands and the mainland. I've also learned that you will be departing shortly for a voyage into the Otherland, am I correct?" Dunmharu had only nodded, watching the blade with wide eyes all the while. "I have a task for you while you're on that ship of yours, and you had better carry it out, or things won't end well for _anyone_ involved.

"You're going to find the Champion Alice while you're at sea, and you are going to bring her to me. I don't care how you do it, or how long it takes. I just want her back here, with me, _alive_. The minute you have her, you are to send word back to me in any way you can. Once you return to the mainland with the girl, you can be sure that your family will be safe. You must follow my orders, exactly, though, or a very unfortunate… accident might occur." To prove this point, the silver knife had come a little closer to Mari's neck, drawing a drop of blood but doing no severe damage.

"Anything; I'll do anything! Just, please, don't harm my family!" At a loss of what else to do, the youngest Stayne sibling had fallen to his knees, begging for his loved ones lives. This had brought a kind of sick satisfaction to the Knave, and he released the woman.

"Lovely to hear, brother. Now, we'll be staying here a few more days, just to see you off. Then we'll be on our way." He had wiped the little dab of red off his knife as a slightly confused Dunmharu had unbound his wife.

"That's it?" Iracebeth had asked, a little shocked, herself, that the Knave had just let her go like that.

"Well, she very well can't cook for us if she's bound, now can she? And, besides," he had grinned, giving a pointed look towards the stairs, "There's still a little one here. We can't have him getting worried, now can we?" With a strangled gasp, Mari understood just what it was that he was implying.

"Yer not to lay a hand on him, ye _slurvish_ thing!" She had cursed him, attempting to take a step forward. Her husband held her back, however.

"Why, I don't believe you have a choice, my dear." He had grinned, and that was that. They had become prisoners in their own home, and were forced to live out the remainder of the time before Dunmharu set sail in a sort-of forced normalcy. Little Johnstone became well acquainted with his new 'Aunt Racie' and 'Uncle Stayne', and had remained blissfully ignorant of the tension that was ever-present in the house. And the day his brother had left, the Knave, the Queen, and their little prisoner had retreated back into the forest. It had become too dangerous for them to stay in one place that long, and they needed to move on.

Suddenly, a loud caw broke through the Knave's thoughts, and the sound caused both adults to jump in surprise and the child to wake from his fitful nap. The trio all turned their eyes to the sky in time to see a messenger hawk swoop down. Stayne held out a gloved arm for the bird to land on, and – the moment it touched down – demanded for word of his brother. This bird had been their primary method of communication the moment Dunmharu entered Underlandian seas, when he had been first informed that his task was successful. "Grave news, my Lord," the bird replied, panting slightly from his frantic flight. "Your brother has been taken to Marmoreal, and the Champion discovered. She is residing in the White Castle as we speak, along with her daughter and two other Otherlanders, as well."

"_What_?" The Knave exploded, causing the hawk on his arm to adjust his footing nervously. "He _failed_?" With a furious shale of his hand, he tossed the animal from his person. He then turned his gaze to the uneasy Queen, who was clutching protectively to the little boy next to her. After so long with Johnstone, she had become quite attached to him, and they shared a bond that sickened the Knave to even think about. His nephew loved 'Aunt Racie' like family, and, in turn, the Queen had calmed down considerable. She still acted like a spoiled girl at times when the boy was either asleep or not present, but when he was there, she seemed almost… mature.

His brother's failure, however, meant one thing: there was no further need for the little brat, or his substitute mother. He was going to have to continue his plan alone. The Red Knave advanced on the two, fury and bloodlust darkening his eyes as he relished the utter terror upon his victims' faces.

* * *

**AN: Uhm, okay, well, uh, that was a little darker than I intended... and a little longer. It was _supposed_ to only be a little insight into the plot before going back to Marmoreal and the goings-on there, but I reached my limit of 3,000 words before I got there. Whoops. Sorry. Anywho, I hope that clears a little bit more up. The big question that poses itself: Who is Stayne's brother, really? Dun- dun- DUH! (I'm sure many of you already know, though...) Also, this chapter hasn't been beta-read, so any constructive critisism would be awesome! (That means you, Audrey! :D)**

**Hopefully I'll have the next chapter up soon! Thanks for reading!**

**Oh, and REVIEWS MAKE ME HAPPY! (*hint-hint-wink-wink-nidge-nudge*)**


	10. Chapter 9

"_We were holding the future in hand_

_A place to fly, and a place to land."_

**Chapter 9**

"Well, what about this one? 'There are four turtle-ducks swimming in a pond; two are startled and run away. How many are left, my dear?" Tarrant, not looking up from his work, asked the little girl next to him. Mia was currently perched atop one of the many tables in his hat-making room, her swinging feet dangling off the edge, and she seemed to focus solely on the project in her hands. That was, however, not the case, as she looked up from the little fabric doll and cocked her head at the madman.

After it had been declared – nay, _decreed_ – by Mia that there was fun to be had, both the Hatter and the little redheaded girl had gotten right to it. However, after a rather loud objection from her stomach, it was decided that a visit to the kitchens – and, inevitably, Thackery – was in order. When they had arrived, it became apparent that _no,_ the March Hare wasn't cooking at the moment, and _no_, he wasn't likely to be hiding somewhere, either; (they had looked). His absence had only given fuel to their mischief-making, though, and by the time they left, all the labels had been switched on the jars inside the poor Hare's spice cabinet. (The conversation that had preceded this event consisted of Mia insisting they do it, the Hatter objecting with the excuse that Thackery would be angry with them, the little girl countering with 'How do you know; have you ever done it before?', and Tarrant's inevitable defeat; because, really, who could deny that little girl _anything_?).

That had been only the first dose of chaos the duo had gone about the castle causing, before they were practically chased – giggling the whole way, mind you – back into Tarrant's hat workshop by a group of _very_ peeved fish-butlers. (Poor Hopsin, the head frog, had nearly suffered from a heart attack during his daily inspection of the West Wing when he discovered that not only were there muddy tracks all along the marble floors, but up on the walls, as well!). With nothing better to do – and their plans thoroughly thwarted (lovely 'T' words!) – they decided to stay there so that the Hatter could get _some_ work done.

This had proved in vain, however, as Mia was soon running around the room with bolts of fabric flowing after her like a cape of an extremely impractical length. Only when Tarrant had whipped up a quick cloth-made little girl and promised to show her several basic sewing stitches so that Alice's daughter could make clothes for her new toy did she calm down enough. And that saw them to where they were now; both working diligently, and – because neither were never very fond of the quiet – exchanging riddles of the finest sort.

There was a pause as Mia's brain mulled over the new challenge. "…Two?"

"Is that your final answer, love?" Again, he never once looked up from his work, though a grin spread its way across his face. _Oh, goodness; there was that annoying little word, again!_

"No, no! Let me think a little more!" There was another, longer pause, before she began giggling.

"Have you figured it out?"

"They were all left! They couldn't have run away, because they were in the water!" she squealed, her giggles turning into full-blown laughter. The jovial mood was just too much, and the madman found himself chuckling along with her, as well. "You're good at these, Mr. Hatter!"

"Likewise, my dear." He grinned and refocused on the hat before him as they elapsed once more into a comfortable silence. It was Mia's turn to think up a riddle, and he was content to wait as long as she needed. As the quiet progressed, though, he felt himself look up out of slight concern that there had been no sound from the little girl's corner of the room. The sight his eyes met, though, caused him to falter in his work. Mia had stopped her simple sewing (she was becoming quite good at it for only having learned an hour previously, he noted), and was scrutinizing him most thoroughly, head tilted to the side and curly orange hair falling off to the side. He raised an eyebrow at her, and, as soon as she realized she was caught, the little girl blinked and shook her head. "What has captured your attention so, love?" _Why did that word insist on verbalizing itself so often?_

"Your name is silly." She stated simply, before seamlessly redirecting her attention back to the little piece of blue fabric in her hands. Well, _that_ was not what he had been expecting… _at all_.

"And what's wrong with my name?" the Hatter asked, physically putting down his work and turning to face her fully. She, however, didn't look up again.

"It's silly."

"Care to clarify…?"

"I might."

"What if I asked nicely?"

"Then I would." There was a pause as Tarrant waited for her to continue.

"…Please?"

"Much better," Mia grinned, still not stopping her crooked stitches, and he resisted the urge to huff indignantly. "It doesn't make sense; why would your Mummy and Papa name you 'Hatter', even if they didn't know you would grow up to make hats? It's a good bit of luck that you did, though, or else it would be very strange for you to go walking around with a name like that but working at something else. Like, being a… physician, or a merchant, or a shop owner, or a tailor. Although they're all boring jobs, if you ask me. Except for being a tailor; that would be fun. Or being a merchant, because you could travel and see the world and—" the Hatter tried (and failed) to hide his laugh in a cough at the girl's ramble. Maybe she was spending too much time with him…

"Well, in response to your original statement – the one about my name, that is – 'Hatter' is not my right birth-name; just a nickname that everyone sees fit to call me. The Mad Hatter, that's the whole of it." He quirked an eyebrow at her surprised expression, and grinned. Of course it would seem perfectly normal (or silly-but-still-normal) to a six-year-old to be named after a profession.

"Well, then what's your _real_ name? It seems rather strange that no one calls you it, if you even have one." She teased, kicking her feet and smiling, her eyes alight with curiosity. At this, the Hatter stood and bowed to her, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Tarrant Hightopp, Royal Hatter the White Queen of Marmoreal, at your service, milady." He grinned. In response, though, he had expected a giggle, a smile, maybe even vocalized words – but a silence fell over the room. The Hatter looked up, worried, and saw that Mia was off in her own little world, lost in thought.

There was a tense pause as he stood back upright and returned to work, still keeping an eye on the girl. She only hummed, shook her head, and refocused on her own project. "My mummy used to tell me stories about someone with your name," she said quietly after a moment. Once again, the Hatter faltered in his stitching. "Well, it was only one story, but it was always too long to tell in one time-before-bed. She would stop, and then pick it back up the next night."

His mind buzzed with questions. _Alice told tales about me? That means she remembered! What were the tales about? Her trips to Underland? Or were they something she had made up? _The only inquiry that made it out of his mouth, though, was a simple, "Used to? She no longer regales you?"

Mia sighed. "Not since Aunt Rea started coming into our – me and Mummy's – room before bed. Sometimes she would take Mummy away, and I wouldn't see her again until morning. Others, she would tell Mummy it wasn't healthy to stay up so late, and that she should go to bed." The little girl wrinkled her nose. "It wasn't fair."

_Strange_, the Hatter thought. _Why would it make a difference whether Alice told her daughter stories?_ Maybe she was just like every other Abovelander (besides Alice and her daughter, of course), and she thought that it was utter tomfoolery to be talking of their mad world. "Do you still remember them?"

Mia refocused her gaze on him, eyes alight, "Oh, yes, very much so; I could never forget them," she assured the Hatter, grinning. "They always had the best characters, and they were in the most fantastical of places!" Her smile faltered slightly, and her expression turned thoughtful once more.

"What is it, my dear?"

"Lady Mirana is just like another one of her characters… and Miss Mally... and Mr. Thackery…" she trailed off. Only then did Tarrant realize that the little girl had never once been the slightest bit shocked by the fact that the animals in Underland _talked_, as Andrea and Alice had been (albeit discreetly, but it was still obvious that they were startled by that fact).

"Would you mind terribly if you told me one of these wonderful yarns?" he asked. There; _finally_ he asked the question that was just _bursting_ to get out. The redhead only giggled in reply, however. "What?"

"I'm truthfully not very sure how to tell you a _yarn_," she laughed, holding up some of the thick string that she was attempting to sew with.

He rolled his eyes and smirked, "One of the _stories_, love." In attempt to appear cross, he folded his arms across his chest… which only made the little girl laugh harder. "_Please_?"

Once her fits calmed, the Champion's daughter nodded, her curls bouncing playfully as she did so. "Where to start, though…? There were always so many beginnings."

"The introduction is always a good place," he answered to her rhetorical question. "After all, what's a good tale without an opening?"

"That seems as good a place as any." She nodded, before setting her piece of fabric aside, swinging her legs up on the table, and shifting to a more comfortable position. Tarrant did the same; he quickly slid over one of the chairs from around his worktable, positioned it toward the little storyteller, and took a seat. The madman gave a nod for her to continue, and she did. "Now, you may not believe what I'm about to tell you; many people don't, but it's the one-hundred-percent, absolute Truth. There's a special place in the world, where everything that's backwards is forwards, and everything that's left is right. Impossible things happen there, but – considering the vastness of the world and the very nature of life – anything is possible…"

**

* * *

**

Hamish Ascott had always considered himself a tolerant man. He had endured countless criticism not only _during_ his 'engagement' party with Alice for proving that he would put up with her nonsense, but also before and after. He had endured the heartbreak when said-damsel had rejected him, and he had stood by and watched her sail away on her grand adventure. He had stomached the urge to scream and yell and have an all-around break-down when he heard of her death. But _this_ was something that he would simply _not_ to have the patience for.

_Yes_, he had been the second – aside from Mirana, of course – to greet Alice upon her arrival at Marmoreal. He was the one who had been there with her Majesty to explain, calmly and collectedly, to the Champion where she was, what was happening, and to ask his own questions. He had been the one to suggest they take a walk in the gardens to look for Mia and Andrea, after the Queen had dismissed them.

And he had been the one who was _left by himself_ for the remainder of the day. That, to say the least, was _not_ sitting well with him.

After the others had departed from the gardens, he had stood there a moment, unsure of what to do. Following several moments of deliberation, however, he had opted to wander throughout the flora and fauna, just to pass the time. He eventually became resigned to the fact that the others were likely not to come back for a while. Hamish had ended up inadvertently entering the forest at one point, and had gotten lost fairly quickly due to his lack of familiarity with his surroundings. By the time the Englishman managed to find his way back to the White Castle, the sun had moved across the sky.

The moment he had reentered the grounds, his path was crossed by a little orange blur. Hamish soon realized that it was Mia, and he looked up just in time to see the Hatter and Alice walking up to an awaiting Mirana. He had been prepared to step into their line of view, but something stopped him; this was a chance to see just how the two acted while around each other. He had had little time to properly observe either of them together, as his presence seemed to cause unease in the madman.

Their interaction was brief, and soon Hamish found himself alone once again. He had been enlightened, though, he realized as he watched Tarrant and Mia head back toward the castle. Not only did it seem that the Hatter was pining after the adventurous blonde, but she seemed to return his feelings, as well. Satisfied that with his findings, the lord had made his way back into the grandeur of Marmoreal.

Now, however, as he wandered the large, empty halls by himself, he found the annoyance welling back up inside of him. Surely everyone had been given enough time to get far enough along in what they were doing that they wouldn't mind his presence. With that thought in mind, Hamish picked up his steps once more, and headed in the general direction of Alice's quarters, sure that either she or Mirana would have some task or another for him to complete. It was no use for him to simply wander about any more than he already had been.

When he reached the grand, white-and-gold encrusted doorframe that entranced the Champion's chambers, he hesitated before knocking. He felt slightly nervous about seeing Mirana again after their somewhat awkward conversation earlier that day, but figured that there was nothing that could be dome now. After a few moments, a twitchy brown hare opened the door. It took Hamish a few moments to remember that this was Thackery, the cook in the palace. "Late, late! Always late!" he grumped in his thick accent, before pushing past Hamish and exiting the room. After shooting a glare at the rude creature, he turned back toward the room, where – sure enough – he found Alice and Mirana chatting amiably on one of the loveseats in the sitting chamber.

"Ah, Hamish!" Mirana exclaimed when she noticed him standing uncomfortably in the doorway. "Do come sit! Thackery just brought us tray; would you care to join us?" She beamed at him and motioned to the tray piled with tea and cakes sitting precariously on the little coffee table. With a suddenly-shy smile, he made his way over to one of the large plush chairs that stood empty on the opposite side of the table.

"Thank you, Mirana. And good evening to you to, Alice." He turned his smile towards her, which she returned.

"Hello, Hamish. What brings you to us this evening?" she asked, sipping her teacup simultaneously with Mirana. He could have laughed at the sight of both women giving him the same inquisitive look over porcelain cups, but thought better of it.

"I was simply down this way, and decided to stop by. How is your hand, Alice?" he asked nonchalantly, forgetting for a moment that he had been watching them unawares in the gardens. Mirana raised her eyebrows at him, but Alice answered his question before she could ask.

"Lovely, thank you." She replied, pausing for a moment to examine the white wrappings over her palm. "Mirana is quite the healer." With a small smile, she sat down her teacup and reached for one of the small cakes on the platter.

"How did you find out about that, Hamish?" the Queen asked, her expression more amused than anything.

"Uhm, well, I happened to see you both earlier in the halls, and…" he trailed off, blushing furiously. He had always been a terrible liar, and now seemed no exception. Seeing him so flustered, the white-haired beauty couldn't help but let loose a slight giggle, which she quickly suppressed. This, however, only caused Hamish's face to heat more.

The pair's antics were brought to an abrupt halt, however, when Alice began violently choking on the cake she had been munching on. "Alice?" Mirana asked her friend worriedly. In response, the Champion collapsed on the floor, convulsing, eyes wide and fearful.

* * *

**AN: I'm so, so, so, so, _so_ sorry for the long and unnecessary wait! I hope you guys can forgive me! **

**I had a ton of fun writing the first part with Mia and Tarrant, and then the second half - with Hamish - nearly killed me. The main conflict, however, is beginning to take shape. YAY!**

**I promise I'm not abandoning this story. I WILL FINISH IT. It just may take me a little while... *sigh***

**Thanks to all those who reviewed the last chapter, and thank you to all those who have added this story to their favorites and alerts! You guys are awesome!**

**As always, please review!**


	11. Chapter 10

"_If I only could make a deal with God_

_And get him to swap our places_

_I'd be running up that road, running up that hill, _

_running up that building"_

**Chapter 10**

Tarrant smiled softly as he tucked the crocheted blanket closer to the little sleeping form on his loveseat. As Mia had regaled him with her mother's story, the Hatter had watched as her eyelids began to droop. Soon, she could no longer sit upright, but – even as he carried her over to the little couch in his workroom – she still sleepily continued her tale. It wasn't until her head gently hit one of the decorated pillows that her eyelids fluttered close for good, and her breathing slowed in time with her words until all the sound she was making was a soft, light snore.

As he returned to his worktable, Hatter mulled over the story Alice had told Mia. From what he could remember – which was more than most, considering he had memorized nearly every detail of _everything_ simply so he _wouldn't_ forget – it was an almost complete retelling of her first time in Underland. Or, at least, that was as far as Mia had gotten tonight. It made sense to him that Alice would need to break such a long, wonderful tale up! No child as young as the little redhead could stay up long enough for the entire adventure to be explained is such the detail, as it certainly deserved.

Soon, the Hatter was back at his worktable, nimble fingers blurring at the speeds they were moving as they created masterpiece after masterpiece. For yet another time in his life, Tarrant became lost in his work, completely engulfed by both the love of his trade and the intensity of the mercury in the glue he used. And, again, not for the first time – but the first time in a long time – he smiled as he worked. He smiled, content, because the mild madness he felt himself slipping into fooled him enough to believe that maybe – just maybe – Mia was _his_ daughter, that Alice loved _him_ instead of Hamish, and that things were right in the world for what felt like once in his life. Only when he wasn't thinking straight would he allow himself to admit these secret wishes; he wouldn't remember it later, anyway.

**

* * *

**

"Alice? Alice!" Hamish cried frantically, shaking the young Champion. In the few seconds it took after Alice had collapsed, coughing and choking, for the Englishman and Mirana to register what had happened, Alice's convulsions had stopped altogether. The Queen honestly wasn't sure which had scared her more: the disturbing scene of her closest friend writhing in pain, or the deathly quiet that followed. Without saying anything, Hamish had quickly but gently lifted the fallen young woman and laid her on the couch, and it seemed now that the panic was beginning to set in. "Alice, please, wake up!"

Mirana watched, dainty hand covering her mouth in shock. The moment she tried to speak, her words emerged choppy and cut-off, which caused Hamish to turn his frantic gaze upon her, as well. After carefully clearing her throat to let the redhead know that nothing serious was happening to _her_ as well, she finally managed to say, "I- I think it's best if we alerted Andrea to the situation." Her tone was much calmer than she felt internally, and was thankful that her practice as Queen was paying off at the moment. The people are always soothed when their ruler was collected during times of crisis, whether it be on a large or small scale.

Hamish could only nod mutely, before stiffly standing and all but running from the room toward the guest chambers Andrea was currently staying in. Only now that he was out of sight would the White Queen show her true emotion, and her mask crumbled. She sank down on the floor near where Alice's head lay on the couch and rested a hand on her friend's upper arm , the Champion's unnaturally cold, clammy skin biting her own. "Please, Alice; just hold on."

**

* * *

**

_Clack clack clack clack-_

Quick, loud. Noises.

Tarrant shook his head slightly, trying to dispel the sounds from his head. They shouldn't be there. He shouldn't be hearing them. They weren't part of the perfect world. Out, _out, OUT_. A little voice groaned somewhere to his left, and the Hatter whipped his head around just in time to see a little redheaded girl stretch and yawn. No, she shouldn't be awake now. Not yet. It was still dark outside.

-_clack clack clack-_

There is was again. In a dazed frenzy, Tarrant sharply twisted around to the door of his workshop just in time to see something – or someone – blur past the cracks where it wasn't closed all the way. Why was someone making so much noise so late? People were trying to sleep! The Hatter decided he would have to bring this up with the Queen tomorrow; surely, _she_ would put an end to this riff-raff and their annoying late-night ventures. He turned back to his work, satisfied with is decision.

It didn't register for several minutes , when heard the noise again – what he now recognized to be footsteps running on the marble floors – that maybe there was a decent reason for the noise this late. Before he had time to think on it any more, however, Mia was grumbling in her sleep again, obviously having been woken up by the racket. His momentary clarity of thought passed, and he was out the door preparing to reprimand the crazed person for waking up the little girl. The minute he stepped into the hall, though, he paused. Hamish was sprinting towards the Main Wing of the Castle, Andrea close behind, and both had panicked looks on their faces.

Upon hearing someone behind them, Andrea faltered and hazarded a look behind her shoulder. "Oh, Tarrant, thank the Lord!" she panted, only stopping her running for a moment. "You 'ave Mia, aye?" The Hatter could only nod mutely, stunned by the developments. "Aye, good. Keep her with you." With that, she was off again.

Suddenly – thanks to years of practice on the Hatter's part – the madman realized that maybe something really _was_ wrong, and he pushed the mercury cloud from his mind as best he could. Something was happening. "Wait!" he called at the last moment, just before the brunette turned a corner. "What has happened?" A sour feeling in the pit of his stomach told him he already had an idea, though. Why else would Alice's keeper be so disheveled?

"Alice collapsed. Keep Mia _away,_" with that, she was off once more, out of sight. Tarrant stood there a moment, trying to decide what he should do. He was worried about Alice, and his first instinct was to follow Andrea and Hamish as fast as he could. He had, however, a little one to take care of, and it had been made clear that she was not wanted at the moment. With a sigh, he turned back around toward his workshop to resume his trade. He would think of something to tell Mia, if Andrea hadn't already.

The minute he faced his door, however, he was met with two sleepily curious emerald eyes. "What's going on?" the little girl asked, yawning.

"Nothing, love," he replied, trying to keep a positive note in his voice.

Mia, awake now, sent him a glare. "You're lying." It wasn't a question; she just knew. And, before Hatter could defend himself, she simply said, "It's mummy, isn't it?"

With another sigh, he crouched down to her eyelevel. "I'm afraid so. I don't know what's happened, but your Aunt Andrea is working with the Queen. They _will_ fix whatever it is that is hurting your mum." Whether he was convincing the little girl or himself, though, was unclear. He pulled her into a tight hug, before standing and carrying her back into the workshop. He wasn't likely to get anymore hats made, though.

**

* * *

**What seemed like the next few hours passed in relative quiet for the Hatter. Soon after he had set Mia back on the sofa, she had fallen asleep. After all, Time _had_ passed into the early morning hours. As had been predicted, he had been able to finish any more work due to the worry and fear that clouded his brain. No news must be good news, yes? At least, he hoped so. There were so many unknowns, and all he could do was sit at this worktable and stare at the half-finished hat that seemed to be mocking him, though he was unsure why. And so, the quiet dragged on.

That is, until the screaming started.

The second the shrill, piercing sound ripped through the echoic halls of the White Castle, Tarrant was out of his seat and poised at the door, ready to sprint toward the sound. A quick glance back at the once-more-disturbed Mia told him to stay, and his common sense kicked in. Whatever state Alice was in to be screaming like that… the little girl didn't need to see her mother that way.

Then the noise stopped, and Tarrant began to relax. Silence now could be good or bad, but he preferred to shove any negative thoughts at this point completely out of his mind. The second it started again, though, he could stand it no longer. He _had_ to know. Before the Mia could even open her mouth to complain about being woken up again, the madman had her in his arms and was running down the expansive halls toward the source of the horrible sounds.

"What's happening?" Mia asked, her voice slightly slurred by sleep.

"We're going to see your mother," he replied. "Something's happened, but you must stay quiet, no matter what happens." He felt her nod into his shoulder, and said nothing after that.

The minute he passed in front of the door to the Queen's chambers, he knew he was in the right place. There were White Guards lined up along the walls, keeping members of the White Court out of peeking distance of the large open door. As they approached, the Hatter could see that entering would be a bit of a challenge. As soon as a Castle Piece Guard tried to turn him around, however, he made it clear that he would not be moved. "I have the Champion's daughter." He stated as confidently as he could, resisting the wave of panic-worry-fear-anger-frustration that suddenly threatened to turn his eyes a deep red. That would _not_ help his cause at all.

"Ah'm sorry, sir," the Guard replied, not moving from the Hatter's way. "Ah was given strict orders tha' no one pass into the Queen's chambe's. _Especially_ ye and the Miss." Tarrant felt his fury mounting, and – with it – his sanity slipping once more. Sensing something was, in all likelihood, about to go _very_ wrong, Mia tightened her grip around the madman's neck. The reminder of the little presence seemed to bring a bit of clarity back, but it didn't stop him from using maddened, adrenaline-induced strength to practically shove the stubborn Guard out of his way just enough to slip by. The minute he was in the clear, he ran for the open door and bolted inside.

The Hatter could hear the guards beginning to realize what had happened, and might have almost laughed at how much trouble they were having coming after him _and_ keeping the growing crowds at bay. He might have, if he hadn't been frozen at the sight before him.

There, lying on the pristine white loveseat, face contorted in pain and chest heaving, was Alice. Mirana had laid out much of her potion-making ingredients on the glass coffee-table, and Andrea was carefully applying a wet towel to the blonde's forehead. Tarrant's anger was barely in check – though his vision was going a bit red – at the sight of her in such pain. He finally seemed to snap, though, when he noticed Hamish kneeling at the Champion's head, stroking one of her hands soothingly.

Faster than anyone could even blink, he had deposited a very confused and upset Mia where he had been standing, and sprinted from the room. He could stay there no longer without the Madness taking over and making him do something he would have regretted.

Back to his workshop he ran, knowing that _there_ was a place where he could take out his anger without hurting anyone important. Without hurting anyone but himself.

**

* * *

**When Andrea had arrived, there had been no specific job for Hamish to do. So, instead, he had taken on the task of providing comfort for Alice – whether she was aware of it or not – and, consequently, everyone else. At the moment, the brunette was calling out what was needed to servants as she assessed Alice's condition, all while applying a cold compress to the poor woman's forehead to keep down the fever that was rising within her. The White Queen was furiously putting together pain remedies and fever depressants with strange ingredients that Hamish shuddered to think of. Only Andrea seemed to know what was causing Alice's condition, but she was too stressed at the moment to reply anything other than "More water!".

Initially, Hamish had thought that maybe bringing Mia into the room would help. When they had been on the ship, her daughter's presence had seemed to calm Alice down. This fit, however, was much different than the other, and, if Mia could have helped, Andrea would have called for her.

A small cry distracted Hamish from his thoughts, and his attention was turned from the struggling Alice to a little redheaded figure standing, lost, at the door. Maybe Andrea _had_ called for Mia… but then why was no one with her? He stood and began to make his way over to where she was standing, and – when she saw him – she began to run toward him. Tears were beginning to well up in her eyes, and, as soon as she was close enough, she wrapped her arms around his legs. Unsure of what else to do, he awkwardly picked her up and began bringing her closer to where her mother was.

When Mirana realized that Hamish had moved, she looked up frantically for him. When she saw who he was carrying, however, she stopped mixing Wings of a Dragon-Fly into her concoction and rushed over as fast as her skirts would allow. "Oh, my dear," she soothed, seeing how frightened the little girl was. She kept looking back and forth between her mother and Mirana, then to Andrea and back again. "What are you doing here?"

"You mean Andrea didn't request her?" the Englishman was stunned. Had she walked here all by herself, and – even then – how had she gotten past the Guards? The Hatter was supposed to be—oh. _Oh. _

Mia sniffled, her eyes red from crying. "Mr. Hatter got upset and left me here," she said, her voice quiet and hurt.

Mirana sighed, "This was why I wanted him _away. _I knew he wouldn't react well to seeing our Champion in such a state… but to leave you was not the wisest move." It seemed to Hamish that she and Tarrant would be having a… _discussion_ about this later. "Come, dear," she took the small girl from him and stood her on the ground, crouching to her eyelevel. "Would you like to stay here with us, or take a late-night walk in the gardens with Lord Ascott?"

Mia's gaze flicked to her mother once more, and then to Andrea, who was now franticly running about looking for something. "The gardens, please," she replied quietly, her eyes becoming wet again as she reached to take Hamish's hand. With a little tug, she started toward the chamber doors, towing the redhead behind her.

After Hamish and Mia were safely out the door and past the Guards, Mirana turned back around to continue her work. What she realized then, however, was that the screaming had stopped. The _screaming_ had _stopped_. A quick glance at Alice told her that the worst was over, but the ordeal was far from over. She was still unsure what was wrong, and that was a key element to curing her friend. Andrea still seemed to know just what was needed, though, and Mirana decided – now that they were in the eye of the storm, so to speak –that now was as good a time as any to ask her what she knew. Any information could be key to helping more in whatever way she could.

"Andrea," the woman didn't pause , "_Andrea_!"

The brunette skidded to a halt and turned to face the Queen. "Yes, Yer Majesty?"

With a less-than-regal roll of her eyes, Mirana said, "How many times must I ask you _not_ to address me as such?" And, before Andrea could protest, she continued, "Please, I'm asking you not only as Alice's friend, but as a Healer, as well. Do you know what has happened?"

With a sigh, Andrea sat heavily down into one of the overstuffed chairs, looking older than Mirana had ever seen her. She ran a hand over her eyes and sighed a second time. "Somehow, the poison has been reintroduced into her system."

"The poison?" Mirana vaguely remembered Andrea yelling to Byrant Ipshaw about him giving Alice something on the _Ifreann_, but she hadn't given it much thought.

"Perhaps it would be best if I began at the beginning…"

Mirana crossed the room to sit in the other chair. "Yes, perhaps that would be best."

"When Ghleo first raided Alice's ship in the Indian Ocean, she fought hard. She was a feisty lass, she was; could have been Irish for all the fire in her blood – I should know, bein' Irish meself. Anyway, when he and his crew were raidin' the _Wonder_, she would'naet give up. I could hear the fightin' from my cabin, and I also heard somethin' that I had never before heard the Captain say durin' a raid. He told his men tae _'leave this one alive; she'll be of use to us'_. I di'naet know at the time who they were talking about, but when they brought the poor girl down to my chamber with a bleedin' hole in her stomach and heard the First Mate yellin' out one of the men for _'damagin' her'_, I knew she was special. I was a nurse back in Ireland, which is why they brought her tae me in the first place.

"When she woke – she had been unconscious from losin' so much blood – she right pinned me to the wall! Kept yellin'_ 'where is she? Where is she?' _and threatenin' tae kill me, she did. Ipshaw must have heard the noise, 'cause he was at the door in an instant with a disheveled li'l bundle practically bein' dragged behind him. _'She's right here'_ he said, shovin' li'l Mia to her, 'afore leavin'. Have'naet ever seen someone so relieved. Once I got her convinced I was'naet goin' tae hurt her, I stitched back her wound where she'd messed up me work from all her movin' round, and explained where she was.

"Everythin' was fine for a few weeks after that. Behaved right like a normal prisoner should, and such. Must've started gettin' worried or stir-crazy or somethin', though. Started askin' questions 'bout where we were goin', and such. By then, she and I had become some kind of friends, and – one day – I heard some of the other slaves talkin' 'bout an argument she had had with the Cap'n. I heard she kept yellin' _'the White Queen won't let you'_ or somethin' like that. I di'naet see her for the rest of the day, but that night she came stumblin' intae my cabin and collapsed right on my floor! Scared poor Mia right oiut of her socks, I'd wager. Woke up a few hours later, she did, but was'naet ever the same again… just kept gettin' worse ever so often.

"I thought maybe she was just sick, and after her first madness-fit, I went to the Cap'n to ask permission to quarantine her or somethin'. Heard arguin' inside the doors tae his chambers, so I stopped to listen. Ipshaw and Ghleo were talkin' about_ 'givin' her too much'_ and that '_yer brother's naet goin' tae like this'_. Said something 'bout '_running out of it soon'_, too. After a wee bit more eavesdroppin' on my part, I figured out they had been givin' Alice somethin' tae calm her down. I di'naet know how they had gotten the stuff tae her without her or my knowin', but after a while she stopped havin' real bad fits. Just was real tired and di'naet say much, 'cept for her bedtime stories tae the Lass."

Here, Andrea paused and took a breath. Mirana let the story sink in, and decided that the two men currently locked in the Marmoreal Dungeons deserved worse than to rot in cells for the rest of eternity. But, no, it was against her vows.

There were several parts of this new History that bothered the Queen the most, however. Why did the two scoundrels want Alice? Who were they working for? As she became lost in her thoughts, Andrea stood and returned to Alice's side.

The next few minutes passed in silence as the two women continued to care for their mutual friend. That is, until Hamish came skidding to a halt just inside the doorway once more, slightly panicked and Mia-less. "Mirana, you must come at once."

* * *

**AN: Sorry this took me so long to write... and that it's a little confusing... and... yeah...**

**So, YAY! Now we know what happened to Alice! But... OOHH! ANOTHER CLIFF-HANGER! *scary background music***

**Reviews are always much appreciated! (:**


	12. Chapter 11

"_Do you remember when you were way back then_

_You held the world inside your hands_

_When you told me love was the strongest stuff_

_Your strength was innocence"_

**Chapter 11**

Both women sat there, stunned, for only a moment before Mirana all but sprang into action. With a quick glance back at Alice, she was up and out of her seat, already walking toward the out-of-breath and frantic young man. "What has happened?" she asked worriedly, looking around for Mia as they retreated back into the hall. "Where is Mia?"

"She's still outside, wi—" Hamish began as he led the Queen toward the gardens.

"You left her in the gardens in the _dark_?" Mirana was stunned. Yes, the castle grounds were fairly safe, but the poor girl was only six years old and unfamiliar with the world of Underland.

"It was her idea, not mine!" he defended, putting his hands up slightly in mock-surrender. "She was trying to get him down, and sent me to fetch you."

"What? Hamish, please, what is going on?"

"There's a young boy in one of the trees outside. The poor thing is scared half to death, and won't listen to anyone but Mia." He let out a worried sigh, and both quickened their pace as soon as they broke through the Castle doors and into the cool, early-morning air.

"—She is very nice, and she'll know what to do. Lady Mirana takes care of everyone, so you can trust her—" they heard a little voice saying as the pair approached the edge of the forest. "Here she is!" Suddenly, Mia ran out from the dark shade of the trees, only to grab the Queen's hand before she could even reply. "Hurry, Lady Mirana! My friend is stuck up in one of the pretty trees, and he's scared to come down." Her tug was surprisingly strong for such a tiny girl as they approached the dark wall of foliage. Mirana scanned the treetops, trying to locate the young lad that was causing the second major crisis of the day, but saw nothing until the redhead pulled her to a stop beneath one particular deciduous. She frantically pointed upward, toward two of the lower branches partially hidden by the peach-colored blossoms adorning the tree this season, saying, "There!"

"Oh dear," the Queen muttered to herself. There was, indeed, a small child perched among the leaves. His intense, dark gaze – sharp for one so young, Mirana thought, wondering just _what_ this young boy had been though – was fixed warily on her, and she found herself becoming uneasy. Mia, on the other hand, didn't seem to notice.

"Can you help him, Lady Mirana?" she asked innocently, gazing up at the Royal with wide, pleading eyes. The Queen hesitated, glancing at Hamish - who had come to stand alongside her – and then back to the little redhead tugging on her hand.

With a sigh, she agreed. "I will try my best, but I fear there is not much for me to do." With that, she stepped closer to the trunk of the tree, patting it gently and quietly asking it to move its branches so that she might get a better look at the boy. It obliged, giving Mirana a clearer view so that she could assess the situation. From what she could tell, the lad had dark hair that fell a little ways past his ears and a long, lanky figure that reminded her of someone she was not able to place at the moment in her mind. They stared at each other in silence for a few moments, each sizing up the other as they figured out what their next moves would be.

"Please don't hurt me," came a small, frail plea from above, and Mirana felt her heart go out to the young lad. Again she wondered what had happened to bring him to the position he was in.

"I would never harm any living thing, my dear. 'Tis against my vows as Queen." She replied gently, smiling softly. He looked skeptical.

"You're not the mean Queen, are you? I heard that there were two Queens at one time, and that one of them wasn't nice at all. I know—" It seemed that he was going to continue, but he cut himself off quickly, almost as though he was afraid to finish his statement.

Mirana sighed, saddened by the turn the conversation had taken. Where had this boy been, not to have known about the war? "No, no; that, I'm afraid, was my sister." There was another pause as he gauged whether or not he thought she was telling the truth. What more could she tell him that would get him out of the tree…?

"He can't come down," Mia said, pulling on Mirana's skirts.

"I know, dear. I'm trying my best to convince him, but he's stubborn."

"No, he _can't_ come down." The little girl repeated, growing frustrated.

"I am aware, and I'm doing all that I— Oh." Suddenly, Mia's words made sense as she took a closer look at the figure in the tree. Little details that she had failed to notice before were becoming apparent, such as the odd direction on of his ankles was facing and the funny way he was clutching his arm. He was injured, and physically could not leave the tree without hurting himself further. How had he gotten up there in the first place? Now was not the time for such questions, however, as a new solution began forming itself in Mirana's mind. "Hamish, please come here for a moment." The young man stepped closer, and the Queen began describing what needed to be done.

Soon, Hamish was off on another errand, this time to fetch several of the palace guards. When he returned, Knight and Castle pieces were trailing behind him, ready to serve their Queen and her odd request. While Chess Guards were not as… stackable as Card Soldiers, they easily adapted and were known for their incredible strength and skill in battle. They were also known for their kindness and loyalty, two other traits that were sought out in training. Very few men made it through the ranks to be a Chess Piece in the Queen's army, as their talents and traits had to be fiercely evident and their demeanor exactly the fit that Mirana was looking for.

Now, those gentler qualities were to be put to good use as the Castle Piece stood with his pack to the tree trunk, and the Knight Piece climbed atop his flat helmet. As he reached up to lift the boy, however, the he shrank back further into the branches, afraid. "Come 'ere, lad; aye'm not goin' to hurt ye." He said gently, trying to coax him into his arms to help him to the ground. His efforts were in vain, however, as he refused to come out.

"Oh, dear," Mirana said for the second time, trying to work out something that would convince the boy that he was safe. Suddenly, the little pressure on her skirts disappeared, and she looked up to see Mia being lifted by the Castle guard. He stopped her at eyelevel, and she began explaining something that the Queen could not make out. With a grunt of acceptance, he lifted her up into the arms of the Knight guard, who placed her on his shoulders. Her breath caught as the little girl teetered for a second, trying to get her balance, before steadying herself. Mirana glanced over at Hamish, who's brows were furrowed in worry, but he said nothing.

"See? He won't hurt you!" Mia was telling the boy excitedly, a bright, innocent smile on her face. "He's very nice." She hugged the Knight around his neck and grinned at the little boy, trying to show him that everything was okay. Mirana couldn't help but smile at the scene herself, seeing traits in Mia much like Alice herself. She was brave – as made evident by her precarious position at the moment –, kind, and curious. The Queen could only guess how she had come to find the boy in the tree, seeing as he didn't seem to be the type to outright announce his presence.

While the boy still looked wary, Mia's stunt must have convinced him somewhat, for he began inching back into direct view. After a few tense moments, he allowed the Knight to lift him under the shoulders, and soon all three – the Knight, the boy, and Alice's daughter – were safely on the ground once more, allowing Mirana and Hamish to breathe a collective sigh of relief. The Castle Piece helped Mia off his comrade's back as the group returned inside.

Hamish noted as they were walking through the great wooden doors that the early morning sky had lightened from a Navy blue to a soft grey, and suddenly he felt exhausted. It had been a long day without rest, and it didn't seem to be coming to an end any time soon. A glance at his Queen revealed that she, too, was looking a bit worse for wear, what with purple circles forming under her eyes and her usually-perfect hair slightly frazzled. He quickly caught up with her, and – throwing decorum out the window, for he was just too tired – offered her his arm. She gladly took it, and leaned into him for support.

As Mirana had instructed, the little party made their way back toward her chambers where Andrea and Alice still were. When they arrived, the Queen – closely followed by Mia – rushed to the Champion's side. While the little redhead threw a hug around her mother, Mirana was relieved to see that the worst of her friend's spell seemed to be completely over. She was now sleeping peacefully, though how she would be if – _when_, the Queen scolded herself – she woke. Satisfied, she turned back to the boy, whom the Knight had sat in one of the large chairs. She noticed that Andrea had collapsed, exhausted, into the other, and was now taking a nap, as well.

Mia wandered back over to the boy's side as the Queen fiddled with various things on her temporary potion table. She gathered bandages and a wet cloth, and started introducing various ingredients back into her cauldron to make a disinfectant for the boy's wounds. He seemed much calmer, and – now that they were in good light – Mirana could see that she had more than just his leg and arm to worry about. His entire body was covered in nicks and scratches, some scabbed over and some brand-new. Now that she could see him better, she realized that he was really not much older than Mia – maybe six or seven years of age. For neither the first nor second time that morning, Mirana wondered what had brought the young lad to her Castle.

As she knelt down to care for his wounds, she noticed Hamish standing awkwardly detached a few paces away, unsure of what to do. A sudden thought occurred to her, and looked up once more. "Hamish?"

"Yes?"

"Would you mind find Tarrant? To check on him?" The Englishman hesitated, frightened at the idea of meeting with the madman – who already didn't seem to fond of him – when he was already so distraught. There was no telling what would happen. "Just to make sure he is alright, and hasn't hurt himself." Another pause, as he still was not ready to give in, even to Mirana. "…Please, Hamish." The Queen was practically on her knees begging Hamish to help her friend, and he knew that this was just something that he had to do. For Mirana.

"Of course, Your Majes—Mirana," he smiled nervously before leaving the room and heading back in the general direction of the Hatter's workshop. Yes, this would be interesting, to say the least.

With that taken care of, the Queen turned back to her little charge. She set about washing out the many cuts with water, but – halfway though – she realized that, with how filthy he was, it would simply be better if he took a quick bath to extract most of the dirt from his wounds. She was a seasoned healer, and this seemed the most practical solution. She did not think that the young lad – he refused to say much, and she still had not discovered his name – would object much to his first hot bath in who-knows-how-long, but it was Mia she was worried about. It wouldn't be proper to allow her in the room with them – even if he left his undergarments on in the water – but, as she had been cleaning his stinging and painful injuries, he had grabbed her hand for support. She thought it was sweet, but it worried her that Mia would not want to be separated from her new friend.

With a sigh, she sat down her damp and now-dark-with-dirt cloth, and waved the Knight – who had been standing diligently at the door – over, as well as telling Hopsin - the head frog servant, who had been making early morning rounds throughout the castle halls and happened to pass by the door – to start a bath. The frog nodded quickly, bowed, and hopped away toward the bathing chambers. When he started out the room, though, she instructed him to start her _own_ bath for the boy. The servant was shocked, but did not question his Queen. Meanwhile, she asked the Knight to carry the boy toward the bath. She called Mia back, however, and asked to have a word with her as the boy was made ready for the warm water.

"Yes, Lady Mirana?" she asked, slightly distracted. She wanted to follow her friend, but would not disobey someone older than her – her mother had taught her better than that.

"It is late – well, early, now – Mia, and I can see that you are about to fall over where you stand! Perhaps it would be best if you curled up with your Aunt Andrea and rested while I tend to your friend." She smiled sweetly and gestured toward the over-stuffed chair where the brunette woman was still sleeping.

The little redhead, however, was more like her adoptive mother than should have been possible, however. Mia shook her head, "I am not tired," she replied, glancing back toward the bathing chambers quickly before returning her gaze to the Queen. "I want to stay."

"Mia, love, I do not feel that it would be best for you to come with us," Mirana again tried to explain. The little girl, however, would not be swayed, and shook her head again.

"I don't want to leave." Her bottom lip began to tremble, and the lack-of-sleep seemed to be taking its toll on her. She would become simply intolerable if she threw a fit, something that young ones often did when they were tired. Wanting to avoid an explosion, so to speak, Mirana sighed gently in frustration. Alice had never been one for propriety, anyway, and it wasn't likely that she would mind.

"Alright, you may come. But—"

"I promise I'll be good!" Mia's mood was completely turned around, and she went from near-tears to grinning in less than a second. With that, the Queen took her hand and they made their way toward the bath chamber.

When they entered the room, they saw that the Knight was gone; he must have departed after leaving the boy in the servant and Queen's hands. He was, after all, a soldier and not suited at all for domestics such as this. Hopsin was stripping the boy of his grimy, torn clothing as they walked in, and Mirana quickly requested that he leave on his under-things. Soon, he and the Queen were helping him into the warm water, Mia watching on, worried for her friend. She winced, herself, each time the boy flinched when the water covered his injuries. Once he was submerged to his neck, he seemed to relax completely and sighed in contentment. Taking this as her cue, Mirana began once again cleaning his wounds while Hopsin prepared some soaps to wash his hair.

After several minutes of comfortable silence, Her Majesty decided that it was time for the questions to begin again. Maybe now that he was more comfortable – he obviously no longer felt threatened, as he had allowed himself to be practically stripped in front of strangers – the boy would be willing to talk. "Seeing as you know who both Mia and I are," she began gently, not looking up from the ugly slash across his forearm, "it seems only fair to me that you tell us who _you_ are." There was another pause, and Mirana briefly wondered whether or not she should have waited a tad longer.

"My name is Johnstone," came his little voice after a tense silence.

"That's a lovely title," she replied, glancing up at his face. He seemed nervous – afraid even – once more, and Mirana tried her best to keep him calm. She could tell that he had been through much in the past few hours – if not days. He said nothing more, however, and the little group continued on once more in quiet.

Growing tired of the lack-of-noise – or maybe sensing how uncomfortable her new friend was becoming – Mia spontaneously began telling Johnstone of her adventures before and thus-far in Underland. She told him of her time spent travelling with her mother – because she really couldn't remember anything before that – and then being on the slavery ship as a prisoner. She then told him of hide-and-go-seek with her mother, and playing with Mr. Hatter (whom she decided Johnstone simply _must_ meet). She kept talking until her eyelids began to droop, and the little dark-haired boy's began to do the same.

Before long, Mirana had finished tending to his wounds, and she and Hopsin began the task of extracting a sleepy-eyed Johnstone from the water. After wrapping him a plush white towel, they sat him back in one of the chairs in the bath chamber and Mirana began wrapping and bandaging the many now-disinfected injuries on his body. Soon, however, his breath became heavy and slowed in time to match Mia's, who had also fallen asleep where she had been sitting. The Queen took a pause in her work to observe the two children, smiling softly to herself at the little scene before her.

There would be more time for explanations tomorrow, and it had been a long day for all. For now, she simply let them sleep as long as they could.

* * *

**AN: Yay! A (relatively) fast update! :3 **

**There wasn't as much action in this chapter, but I promise that the next installment will have the Hatter in it. I had planned to put the scene with him in this chapter, but it became too long. *sigh* Oh well. ****This chapter hasn't been beta'd, so I apologize for any errors. I don't always catch things. **

**As always, reviews are loved! Thank you to all who have reviewed, favorited, alerted, and read this story so far! It's your support that keeps me writing! 3 **

**HAPPY THANKSGIVING, ALL!**


	13. Chapter 12

"_Seal my heart_

_And break my pride._

_There's nowhere to run_

_And nowhere to hide."_

**Chapter 12**

_Oh, dear Lord, what have I gotten myself into?_ Hamish thought as he made his way through the halls of Marmoreal at a brisk pace. After Mirana had sent him off to check on Tarrant, he had stood in the hall for several moments debating how he was to go about this. Based on the look the Hatter had when he made his quick retreat from the room, his mental state was going to be less sane than normal. Even though he had been here several days, Hamish did not know the madman well enough to be absolutely sure that he would not be injured upon stepping foot into the workshop – the most likely place he had fled to. And if that _were_ the case, the Englishman was still not sure he would feel completely safe in his presence. Resigned to his duty to both the Queen and Alice – for he knew she would want him to check up on her friend, as well – he had pushed himself off the wall he had been leaning on and started toward the Hatter's safe-haven.

Sooner than he would have liked, Hamish found himself outside of Tarrant's door. All was silent on the other side from what he could tell, so he took this as a good sign. The moment his hand came in contact with the wood to knock, however, there was a large crash on the other side and enraged yelling in the foreign language the redhead had come to recognize as Outlandish. Once more, he hesitated, fearing for his safety. Once the noises had died down, Hamish made another attempt to knock, this time met with silence. While this seemed more positive than the violent sounds before, it still worried him. What if something had happened? That thought brought the lord to a pause. This strange land was changing his perception of this; in London, he would not have spared a second thought for the wellbeing of a commoner such as a hatter**.**

When there was no movement made on Tarrant's part to open the door, Hamish took it upon himself to do so instead. There was no use turning back now, and – besides – what would Mirana think if he simply returned without news because he had been too afraid to enter the room? And, he had to admit, some part of him was morbidly curious as to what was going on inside the workshop.

The tarnished hinges made ominous creeks and groans as Hamish slowly pushed open the door, and he was soon met with a wave of cool, sweet-smelling air that somehow seemed different than that of the rest of the castle. His questions were wiped from his mind, however, when he took a look into the room itself. Things were strewn about in the bedlam that had erupted here. While the room normally had the feel of madness, at least it seemed to be organized chaos, the complete opposite of what things were now. It was as if a tornado had swept through and destroyed nearly everything in its path. Shredded scraps of fabric littered ever surface like colored snow, crushed hats covered the scratched wood floor in place of a rug, and a twisted metal dress form lay heaped in a corner. Tables were overturned, racks were spilled, and several stools sat with their legs toward the ceiling.

Among all of this, however, a disheveled Outlander sat, head in his hands, not making a sound. All notion of fear left Hamish upon setting eyes on him; hat missing, hair frazzled but drooping, and all vibrant color drained from his clothing and complexion. The Englishman took a tentative step forward, but – when the Hatter gave no indication that he even _knew _he was in the room – Hamish gave his gait strength. Soon, he was standing next to the chair Tarrant sat in; the only upright piece of furniture in the room. "Tarrant…?" He said quietly, somewhat unwilling to break the spell. When he received no response, he knelt down next to the man, and the expression he saw on the Hatter's face was enough to break his heart. His face mirrored the bleak, grief-stricken look the rest of his body possessed, and Hamish only wished he could help him. "…Hatter?" He tried again, gently shaking his shoulder.

"Aye cannae help her this tyme, can aye?" Came the nearly inaudible reply. "Th' damage 'as alreaday been don."

Hamish sighed and laid a hand on his shoulder, staring at the floor. Though he would never admit it to another living soul, he knew that the pain he was feeling could never compare to that which the Hatter was feeling. It was one thing to know someone their whole life, but it was completely different to _want_ someone their whole life. To wait for them, dropping everything and simply living for that one moment when you could see them again. "The damage has been done, my friend, and I don't know if she will ever be the same again. But she will heal; we must have faith in that." Hamish nodded slightly, his voice growing stronger. Whom was he trying to convince? Tarrant… or himself?

Suddenly, the Hatter whipped his head to face Hamish, and he nearly gasped in surprise. His eyes… oh, his eyes! They burned one million different shades of agony, anger, grief, hate, sorrow, need, utter hopelessness, and _love_. There it was, the love that everyone had speculated about before, laid out for the Englishman to see. Love for Alice, Champion of Underland, Bringer of Peace, Conqueror of the Red Queen, Lady of the White Court.

"Where is he?" he burst out, nearly screaming, as he stood faster than Hamish could blink. The Englishman fell back in surprise, and gaped at the man above him, the fear returning. "Where is tha' devil ? He tha' did this tae her? He should burn! He should rot! At mae own 'ands! Aye'll skin 'im alive! Make 'im pae fer wha' he's done! Make 'im hurt! Th' rat deserves it! Needs it! Must 'ave it!" He began a rampage around the room, destroying anything that was not already in shambles – and, if something was not completely wrecked, that _problem_ was solved in a manner of seconds. After several terrified moments of watching Tarrant's pain-filled, hate-fueled rage, Hamish made a split decision. It did not matter what Mirana had said, he feared for his life and was leaving immediately! With that, he sprang to his feet and bolted for the half-open workshop exit. The moment he was in the hall, he slammed the door behind him and gripped the brass handle with all his might. After breathing a sigh of relief and collecting himself for a moment, he began the shaky walk back down the hall. He dreaded telling the Queen of his failure, but he did not have much of a choice.

Just as he was about to turn a corner, though, an inhuman shriek met his ears. His first reaction was to sprint back to Alice, where he thought the sound was coming from, but then he realized that it was the pure embodiment of everything that had been in the Hatter's eyes. Everything melded into one sharp, monstrous sound. It was, however, the sound one runs _toward_ however; that of an injured and dying animal with no chance of survival. It was not the call of something bent on violence and murder. Pausing in his steps, Hamish wondered at the intelligence of such a move. Going back there? He could be killed! With a start, he realized that the screaming had stopped, and now all was eerily silent once more. Another moment of worry and doubt brought Hamish to a conclusion.

Once again, against his better judgment, Hamish found himself walking back toward the workshop door. _You've gone mad!_ He thought to himself, shaking his head. All too soon, he was facing the wooden entrance, and this time he didn't even bother to knock. As Hamish entered, a sight similar to earlier, when he had come to check on the Hatter for the first time, greeted him. This time, however, he knew not to be deceived by Tarrant's calm demeanor. Despite this knowledge, he still made his way toward his side.

"Ye shoul' not 'ave come back," Tarrant said, his voice low and sad.

"And why not? Honestly, Tarrant, you're not going to _hurt_ me, are you?" The Englishman replied lightly, smiling trying to hide the itch to run from the room and not come back.

"Behcause ye shoul' beh wit Alice, makin' sure she's alright," He shook his head, his voice growing more frantic. "If ye love some'ne, ye shoul' beh bay their side whenever somethin' happens. Ye've got tae take care of her, even if she dinnae need takin' care of. Ye've got tae _show_ her tha' ye love her, because she might naet notice and fall fer some'ne else," Suddenly, the Hatter stood and returned to his rampage, yelling until his voice became hoarse. "_Ye need tae _be_ up thaier, 'amish, takin' care of yer lady! Ye DON' know 'ow lucky ye are!"_

As Hamish stood there, listening to the rants of the madman as he tore apart his sanctuary, something clicked. Summoning whatever ounce of courage he had developed while in this insane land, the redhead yelled as loud as he could to be heard over his companion's ranting. "So why aren't _you_?" His question brought Tarrant to a screeching halt—quite literally, in fact, as his boots made skidding noises on the hardwood flooring whilst he was trying to keep himself from tumbling over a fallen dresser—and, when the Hatter turned to face him, he saw that his eyes were no longer the color of fire. "If all those things are true," he repeated, "why aren't you up there, tending to Alice?" Tarrant continued to stare blankly at him. "Dear God, man, what they say can't honestly be true, can it?" Hamish asked, aghast. No one could possibly be _that_ clueless... could they?

"Who said what about who?" Tarrant replied, confused, and Hamish noted with a hint of relief that his voice had regained the soft lisp that meant things were going well.

Instead of answering the question that answered his question with another question—_Oh, Lord, the absurd logic of this place is getting to me_—Hamish decided to simply spell things out straight for the madman. It really was quite sad that he did not know his own feelings. "You, Tarrant Hightopp, are in love with Alice Kingsleigh, and have been, I'm gathering, for a very long time." Again, he was met only with a slack-jawed look from his companion. Then, suddenly, the Hatter broke into a bout of high-pitched laughter, and he was clutching his sides and pointing at Hamish for what could have been an entire ten minutes. (It was so hard to tell, really, with Time being so confusing in Underland.) Just as quickly as it had begun, though, the giggling stopped, and was replaced with silence once more. The Hatter's demeanor switched from mad-jovial to sadness once more, and Hamish found that the man's incessant mood swings were making him dizzy. He was having trouble keeping up.

"She does not feel that way about me, you know; she has you and everything that you can offer her… Up There," Tarrant replied solemnly, giving a mild gesture to the sky as he said the last several words. It took Hamish a moment to realize what he was talking about: London. And… he thought he and Alice were a pair?

"What?" he asked incredulously, nearly on the verge of laughter. Upon seeing the uncharacteristic solemnity on the madman's face, however, he quickly suppressed it. Did he not know Alice had rejected him? That they had decided long ago that they would never make each other happy? Had he not seen the Hatter at the life-ceremony, where he had stated just that in his speech? "She and I share _no _romantic feelings beyond that of a purely platonic friendship," Hamish replied, though he opted to leave out his harbored affections for the better. This revelation—albeit a somewhat repeated one—caused Tarrant to blink… and blink again. "Whether you are willing to believe it or not, I have become increasingly under the impression that it is _you_whom she holds fondness for. While in London, she often confided in my father about her adventures here, never failing to mention a character—one I now recognize as _you—_in some shape or form. And just by simply seeing the way she _looks_ at you—God, man, why am I even taking the time to explain this to you? You should be with her _now_, seeing for yourself," Hamish felt his frustrations quickly rising as he explained this to the Hatter, and—when the madman tried to cut in—he kept talking until he was finished. "Before you head to Alice, though, I suggest you take the time to right your feelings for _her_. Do not lie to yourself, Tarrant Hightopp, because then you would only be lying to her."

A pregnant pause followed Hamish's sudden and unexpected—event to him— outburst, and, with nothing else to say on the matter, the Englishman turned to leave. He had fulfilled his promise to Mirana: the Hatter was fine, no more confused than normal, and would not injure himself greater than he already had during his violent spell. Hamish's steps faltered—perhaps he had been too harsh? No, someone had to speak plainly to Tarrant at some point on such a topic. It was not healthy for every word brought up around him to be said on eggshells, with people constantly worrying that he would crack. Yes, that was it; he had done the right thing. Goodness, things here were beginning to go from entertainingly odd to downright confusing and somewhat stressful. Suddenly, Hamish found himself longing for the straight-backed order of London society. Would he ever be able to return home? From what he had heard during his time here, travel back Above was not easy by any means…

Just before he turned the corner toward the Queen's Chambers once more, Hamish heard a creak behind him. At first, he thought nothing of it, lost in his thoughts of home; that is, until a small voice called, "H-Hamish?" It sounded so unlike the Hatter, the Englishman could not bring himself to ignore it and move on. With a quick spin on his heel, the redhead was soon facing Tarrant, who was meekly hovering outside his now-open workshop door while clutching his top hat nervously in his hands.

"Yes, Tarrant?" Hamish prompted when the madman elaborated no further.

The silence continued for another moment, but, just as Hamish was about to turn back around and continue on, a quiet, "Thank you," reached his ears. Not sure what he was being thanked for—he had only spoken words that had needed to be heard for a long while—Hamish nodded in recognition and continued on, not bothering to check whether or not the Hatter had followed him.

When he returned to Mirana's chambers, he found her tucking a throw around the little sleeping form of Mia, who was curled in the chair with Andrea. After the two children had fallen into Dreamland in the bathroom, she had carefully carried each back into the sitting parlor of her chambers—all while Hopsin was quietly protesting and pleading that they retrieve the guard to do the work for her—and deposited them in the chairs.

When the Queen looked up, she saw Hamish leaning by the door, watching her, and she blushed slightly. After quickly composing herself (as much as one could in a situation such as this), she floated toward him, eager to hear news of her friend. "How is he?" she asked, referring to the Hatter.

"Distressed, as one would expect, but he seems quite alright," he replied, noticing now that Tarrant had not, indeed, come after him to the small party that had been forming in the Mirana's rooms.

"Wonderful; I am glad to hear it," she seemed to visibly relax, breathing a sigh of relief with the knowledge that—for now, at least—everyone seemed to be doing well. With that statement, an awkward paused seemed to hang in the air as each tried to decide their next move.

Hamish opened his mouth to speak, but he was cut suddenly off when a blue mist began to gather around the pair. "Your Majesty… Hamish…" a disembodied voice drawled as Chessur formed above their heads.

"Chess, how lovely!" Mirana sighed, glancing up at her friend with a smile. She had not seen the Cheshire Cat often since Alice's arrival—or many of the others, for that matter—and had missed them dearly.

"I trust our Campion is faring better than she was earlier?" he asked, though both humans were quite sure he was already aware of the answer to that question.

"Yes, she seems to have settled down fairly well," Mirana replied, glancing over to where Alice lay.

"And your little guest…?"

"Yes, he appears much better, also," Hamish let his eyes wander to wear the mysterious boy was dozing peacefully in the chair. He had not been around to hear any new developments on him, and would make sure to ask the Queen when he was able.

"Excellent to year, Your Majesty," Mirana nodded, suddenly seeming preoccupied with some thought. Chessur began slowly disappearing, fading away until his head was the only thing left visible. "Oh, and I was sent to inform you that Absolem will be coming tomorrow for an audience with you."

"Yes, yes; of course. I shall be ready," the White Queen nodded again.

"_All_ of you…" and before either Mirana or Hamish could ask what he meant by 'all', the feline was gone.

**

* * *

**

The White Queen stood from her head chair at the dining table where breakfast currently was being served to Mirana and her court. A hush fell on the chattering crowd as they all stood with her, responding to her bow with their own as servants brought out silver platters of food. Everyone returned to their seats and began their meal, eager for the day to begin. To her right, Hamish sat, watching her intently as he ate—worried for her, as it was evident none of them had been able to sleep much the night before—and to her left was little Johnstone, seated next to Mia.

Andrea was placed next to Hamish, attending a formal meal with the Queen for the first time since her arrival, as every other occasion that had presented itself found her watching over either Alice or Mia. This morning, however, much to everyone's surprise—except, perhaps, Hamish— the Hatter had volunteered to sit with Alice. Underland's Champion remained unconscious, though she had been moved to her own chambers early that morning. The Celtic woman seemed nervous and stiff, visibly worried for her friend. It seemed to Mirana as though she was not used to having someone else watch over the blonde, and was even more wary that a madman was taking over her job for the day.

The five ate in silence, each lost in their own thoughts, with the occasional giggle from Alice's daughter as she watched her new friend shovel down his food. Mirana smiled softly to herself as she watched the two interact, happy that they, at least, seemed blissfully ignorant of the trouble that was brewing around them. "Mirana?" The White Queen turned her attention to Hamish, who had just addressed her, as she reached for her glass. "There is something I have been meaning to discuss with you—"

The Englishman was cut off, however, when a voice suddenly drawled in the Queen's ear as she raised her cup to take a sip. "I would not drink that, if I were you." As if on cue, one of the courtiers toward the opposite end of the table began violently choking and slipped from his chair, unconscious. His glass shattered to the ground, its contents spilling out onto the floor and pooling around him.

* * *

**AN: UGH! I'm so sorry this took me so long to get up here (...as usual...). This chapter was kind of hard to write (I tried to avoid making the Hatter too OOC), and then there were some technically difficulties leading to me having to re-write the whole thing from memory. Fun. I don't think it's a good as the first time I wrote it, but here it is. **

**Thanks to everyone who has review, faved, watched, and read this story so far! It's you guys that keep me writing, even through adversity! Y'all are amazing!**

**Also, I'd love to see some fanart for this story. If anyone is willing to take creativity into their own hands, I would be so excited and grateful~! 3**

**Thanks again to everyone who has stayed with this story thus-far! :D**


	14. Chapter 13

"_Who is the betrayer?_

_Who's the killer in the crowd?_

_The one who creeps in corridors_

_And doesn't make a sound?"_

**Chapter 13**

It seemed, for a moment, that everyone-even Time, himself-was holding their breath as they waited for what would happen next. Everything paused for a moment, speeding up just enough to a pace that could be considered something akin to slow-motion as Mirana came to her senses and began to make her way to help her fallen friend, before returning full force as guards rushed to escort their Queen away to a safer place. Nothing like this had happened since the death-murder by their own daughter-of the High Royals, Mirana and Iracebeth's parents. The White Queen felt her throat close slightly at the memory as she was being pulled away from the scene of slowly out-breaking panic. More guards were pouring from the doors, trying to escort everyone away-Andrea was frantically trying to get to Johnstone and Mia, who were slowly being sucked into the frantic and ever-growing crowd-Hamish was making his way toward her, pushing away Chess Pieces and gazing at her with wide, pleading eyes.

And then all became silent as the dining hall doors closed behind the Queen, Hamish, and her body guards, only the sound of their quick, heavy footsteps echoing down the marble corridors.

It took Mirana several shocked moments to revisit reality, and her mind returned as one of the guards-the Knight Piece that had been of such assistance the night before with Johnstone-was gripping her shoulders gently and asking if she was all right. They had made it to the Safe Room, but Mirana was still unresponsive. Answers and questions raced through the White Queen's head, but she could only verbalize one thing as her thoughts became a strawberry-jam of disjointed feelings. "Where are the Children?"

_Children are so rare in Underland after Iracebeth… _

_So many were lost with the Hightopps… _

_We cannot lose any more…_

"Your Majesty? Are you unharmed? Did you drink any of the _fíon_ provided?" The Knight repeated, gazing at this Queen worriedly.

"Are the Children all right?" Mirana pleaded, her normally-calm demeanor cracking for a brief moment. There was a tense silence in the air before the Knight gave a slight nod and stood.

"Two-D and -F," he said, addressing two Pawn Pieces who immediately stood at attention, "Find the Children and their caretaker; bring them here for safety," another nod and the pair was off on the search. The Queen breathed an audible sigh of relief, and suddenly she felt exhausted. Seeing this, the Knight gently ushered her over to a crisp, white sofa along one of the walls as another Piece began securing the locks on the door. Mirana closed her eyes choosing to completely block out her surroundings once more rather than focus on the room she was in. She knew this place all too well, memories of the last time she had been brought here flooding her thoughts despite her efforts to stifle them.

_The Throne Room… Meetings with Fabraice Hightopp about a suit… A servant bringing refreshments… Choking… Screaming… Calling… The Safe Room…_

"Lady Mirana!" Mia was by the Queen's side in an instant, her eyes red and tears on her cheeks. Before anyone could object, the little redhead was climbing onto the couch and hugging the monarch. The action brought Mirana back to reality once more, and-as she returned the gesture-she glanced around the room. True to his assignment, a Pawn had brought the Champion's daughter and Johnstone, as well as Andrea. The fact that Hamish was not among them, though, unsettled her more than it should have…

"Where is Two-D?" The Knight Piece asked, just as the doors opened once more and Hamish entered, escorted by the missing Pawn.

"Mirana!" he practically cried, rushing over to her side as she, too, stood abruptly, scooping up Mia with her. "Are you all right?"

"Yes, yes; I am fine. I had nothing to drink, much thanks to Chessur," the Queen made a mental note to ask how the Cat had known of the poison next time they met. "I am assuming you had none, as you are standing here with me," she smiled weakly, adjusting the little redhead on her hip. The Englishman returned the gesture as Andrea made her way over to the trio.

"Is Alice still with Tarrant?" the brunette asked, holding the hand of a strangely-calm Johnstone. The little boy reached for one of Mia's hands, letting go of the Irishwoman's as he did so.

"I have no reason to believe otherwise," the Queen responded, sparing a nervous glance toward the door. Her friends had not been present at the meal with the rest, so they should have been fine… But would Thackery not have brought Tarrant a tray of food in the stead of a formal meal? At the moment, all edible items were in question, and there was no room for chance. "Sir?" Mirana addressed the Knight, who was immediately by her side.

"Yes, Your Majesty?"

"Has there been any word yet from your men on the Royal Hatter and our Champion?"

The soldier directed his attention to the Pawns, who shook their heads. "No, your Majesty," he paused for a moment, thinking. "Due to both the physical condition of Champion Alice and the threat of your possible attacker still within castle walls, we cannot risk bringing any other here to the Safe Room. I can send a man to check on them, however, if that is what Your Majesty wishes."

Mirana nodded, grateful, "Thank you, sir; your help during this last few days has been invaluable. What is your Rank, Knight?"

"One-B, Your Majesty," The Queen nodded once more, turning to watch as one of the Pawns exited the room for the final time, and made a mental note to recommend the fine soldier to the Commanding Officer.

A tense silence filled the small room after the Piece's departure, and the anxiety hanging about the air was so thick one could cut it with a knife. Eventually, Mirana returned to her place on the sofa, Johnstone and Mia curling up beside her on the remaining available cushions. Soon, both fell into a restless slumber, and their rhythmic breathing lulled the Queen with them into a Dreamland despite her racing thoughts.

* * *

"…Traced the source of the poison to a vial of _luibh_ in the kitchens used to make the _fíon_ served during Morning Meal. The kitchens staff have been quarantined and detained for questioning, and the drinks bottled and burned," someone was saying.

"Fine work, soldier; has the all-clear been given?" That sounded like One-B

"Yes, sir; One-C deemed the immediate threat dealt with. Her Majesty is requested in the Infirmary, when she is able, to assist Lord Rallison. The Nurses are doing what they can to remove the luibh from his system, but the Her Majesty's healing skills are unparalleled."

"We will wait until Her Majesty awakes to deliver her to the Infirmary. And the Champion?" One-B again.

"With the Hatter, safe; neither consumed any of the drink."

"Excellent; you are dismissed." There was some rustling, and soon the room became quiet again. In the silence, Mirana nearly drifted off once more. It seemed-in her dazed, half asleep state- as though she was not needed immediately, and a few more moments in Dreamland would hurt no one… No, this was not a time for sleep. Her people needed her-her _friends_ needed her. She had to be strong. …Which meant she had to wake up, and move. The final, urgent thought that brought her head up and her eyes open was that of how positively un-regal her current situation was. Curled up on a sofa, skits no doubt ruffled and hair a-fray? Oh what a sight she must look! Then, slightly appalled at her practical but selfish thought, she began to stir.

**Linebreak**

As the hour wore on in that tiny room, Hamish felt one thing for certain: awkward. He was not afraid, nor was he particularly worried for himself-for Mirana and the others, however, was a different matter-but there he stood, sidled up next to Andrea in such cramped quarters, trying _not_ to keep his eyes on the sleeping Queen. She looked absolutely peaceful, and he realized-not for the first time, but certainly most surely now-that the calm, happy façade Her Majesty wore through her waking hours was simply that: a façade at times. When she began to wake after the Knights had finished debriefing one another, he could not help but perceive how beautifully graceful she looked as she smoothed her hair and evened her skirts in one swift motion as she stood. It seemed as if she needed no time at all to return to this world, as she was almost immediately conversing with the soldiers.

"Good afternoon, your Majesty," One-B greeted and soon matters became all business. "When you are ready, your presence has been requested in the infirmary. Will you oblige?"

"Yes, my Knight, I shall go where my people need me. This is regarding Lord Rallison, I presume?" she asked, glancing sidelong at Mia and Johnstone, still curled up on the sofa, and then to Hamish in the blink of an eye.

"Yes, your Majesty," he replied, nodding once and giving a slight bow. "He is currently incapacitated, and the nurses have been, as of yet, unable to bring him to consciousness. There was the hope that, with your added expertise, he could be revived before any more permanent damage took its course."

"Of course; and all is well elsewhere in the Palace?"

"Yes, your Majesty."

"Then we must be going as soon as possible-there is no time to waste with a life at stake." Hamish watched with fascination as the crown-clad woman before him morphed once more from the White Queen to Mirana as she cast one last look at the two, sleeping children curled on the sofa. Her entire demeanor softened, but, as soon as she turned back toward the Knight, she had become Her Royal Highness again. Granted, he found both aspects of her personality captivating in their own, unique ways, but the way she could switch between the two people within and still radiate beauty, authority, power, and _love_ to all those around her simply drew him in. The young Englishman was unaware that he had been watching Mirana until she nodded at him, smiling ever-so-slightly and blushing, "Hamish," before departing out the door, followed closely by One-B.

Now that he was alone-well, mostly alone, as he was surrounded by three sleeping bodies-he let out the breath he had been holding for what seemed like hours, and breathed a sigh of relief as he collapsed onto what little section of the couch there was left to take up. For now, everyone was safe... or as safe as anyone could be in such a situation. He heard a small noise to his right, and turned to see little Mia stretching herself out as far as she could-which was not very long at all-before curling back up, all the while managing not to jostle the dozing boy next to her. Hamish had to wonder at the little girl... she was such an enigma, yet, at the same time, she seemed so familiar. He shook his head-it was such an Alice-like thing to do, really-adopt a little orphaned girl; but he knew that wasn't what was bothering him. Why hadn't she ever mentioned Mia in her letters? Yes, they had been few and far between, but there had been no indication of an addition to the family before that shocking revelation on the _Ifreann_. Maybe, if they had known, what was left of the Kingsleighs could have been saved... or maybe it was for the best-knowing that she had lost both her daughter _and_ her granddaughter would have taken even more of a toll on the late Helen Kingsleigh than the tragedy already had, and, as for Margaret... well, there was no telling how she would have reacted. Would she have been plunged into even more grief than she already was? No, she did not deserve that- no one did.

As his mind wandered back and forth between topics in the silence, he found himself returning again and again to that ne'er-mentioned afternoon some days ago when he and Mirana had set out on what she assured him was a routine happening. But nothing that had happened on the _Ifreann_ was remotely related to what could be considered normal, whether it be in his own lands or this strange, mad world. Alice's situation-and Alice, herself-seemed to have fallen prey to the twisted grip of Chaos, and there seemed no reasonable explanation. And what had become of the Captain and his First Mate? Where had Mirana's guards taken them? He had so many questions, but he knew that there would be a time for answers-a different time, but a time nonetheless.

* * *

Mirana sighed heavily, falling into one of the oh-so-characteristically white plush chairs that littered her study. Only a few moments was all she needed, and then she would resume the already- hectic day's activities. She had just returned from the infirmary, where she had managed to help cleanse Lord Rallison's system, expelling the last of the _luibh_—a poisonous herb native to the Outlands that had somehow managed to make its way into the spiced wine served daily during the Morning Meal. Still, though, he did not awaken, and-though she did not voice her concerns to the nurses surrounding her at the time-she feared that he would not be revived. It was likely, she predicted, that he would remain in the comatose state for the rest of his quickly-shortening life, and-even if he managed to survive on the slim chance that he could return to the world of the living-he would be severely crippled, whether physically, mentally, or both. There really was no telling.

What worried Mirana the most, though, was that, though the Knights had deemed that area safe for her to move through-accompanied by a guard at all times, of course-they still had no concluded who the attempted assassin was. At any moment, he or she could be targeting her... or worse, those close to her; Mally, Tarrant, Hamish, Alice... the children... there were so many horrible possibilities roaming wild through her thoughts that she had to stand once more and pace on her already-aching feet. After a few more moments of brooding, she groaned and rubbed her eyes, suddenly overcome by how _exhausted_ she was. And yet, she could not be still. With another sigh, she resigned herself to the anxiety and paranoia that was likely to follow her for the next few days, and emerged from her room once more. With a light wave of her hand, she motioned for the Knight to follow her as she made her way back toward her sitting chambers, where Alice and the Hatter were likely still waiting-in actuality, where the Hatter was waiting, and Alice was most likely still unconscious, oblivious to the insanity ensuing around her.

As she walked, she felt the familiar sensation of the air growing heavy, and she smiled softly. "Hello, Chess; you seem to have missed all the action."

"Oh, your Majesty," the blue feline purred, his face slowly appearing one feature at a time as he lazily floated along beside her, "you know _I_ never miss any fun going on."

"I am quite sure you do not, Chessur," the Queen responded quietly, though whether it was from exhaustion or the insinuation of what was just said, even she had no idea. "How is everyone? I am on my way to our misplaced friends at the moment; I assume that Alice had not yet awoken?"

"No, she is still as asleep as a satisfied baby," he replied, grinning at his own joke. Mirana, however, was not in the mood for humor, and did not laugh-though she did appreciate the effort, and attempted to turn the corners of her lips up ever so slightly. "Absolem is much less than pleased that you missed his meeting, by the way." He did a flip in the air, now fully formed, and Mirana huffed in a very un-Queen-like manner.

"I am not sure he's noticed, but I have been a bit busy as of late," she snapped, quickening her pace. The cat, however, was unfazed.

"Now, now; let's not shoot the messenger. I am simply relaying what the old butterfly informed me-he wishes to speak with _all_ of you as soon as possible, and he is becoming very impatient with Alice's unconsciousness. I am beginning to think that he might simply interfere and wake her up, himself," he laughed again at his own terrible joke. "Although, I'm not sure what good that will do- there's no telling what state she'll be in if she ever comes back to us."

"_When_, Chess. _When_ she comes back to us-because she _will_." Mirana replied defiantly- though, after wondering it herself so many times, she was no longer sure just _who_ she was trying to convince, or whether she still believed her own words.

* * *

**AN: Y'all have every right to storm down my door and shoot me. Really. A year-long wait and this is all you get? I'll admit, it's pretty pathetic. But at least the story's not dead... right? Right! I've actually taken the time to sit down and plan this damn thing out, and-I have to say-it's going to be freaking long. Like, double-book type long. But at least I'm no longer lost and writer's-block ridden!**

**As usual, please review, and I'm sorry if there are terrible typos and awfulness in this thing... ): **


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